


Standard Extraction Plan, I Guess

by Cryptic_Stories



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: ;D, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Betrayal, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Help, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nicknames, Remus needs to stop, Roman and Virgil are gay disasters, Virgil is tired, cool spy tech stuff!, give them coffee, my readers are probably dying after chapter 12 happened, remy made a cameo?, some language, sorry lads - Freeform, spicy plot twists, the whole shebang, warnings at the beginning of each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 101,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptic_Stories/pseuds/Cryptic_Stories
Summary: Roman Phillips: 29-year-old spy assigned to a fairly standard mission. The goal? Find Virgil Morris, an alleged hacker who somehow managed to download the personal information of every spy in Roman's agency--The Rogers Institute for Intelligence and Security (more commonly known as RIIS). But it seems that the unassuming target is far more valuable than RIIS anticipated--something COTECH (RIIS's rival agency) plans to take full advantage of.With the help of Patton Hart and agent Logan Fletcher, they plan to expose these plans and topple the corrupt rival agency.They're going to need a lot of coffee.Excerpt:Virgil swallowed hard, trying to shove down the thoughts about how attractive this dude looked when he was flustered and focusing on the fact that he had literally just started speaking gibberish: 'What the hell is COTECH? Why am I, of all people, being accused of hacking secret government files? Can you cut fingers on cheekbon—Damn it.'





	1. Prologue - The Playing Field

It was a standard extraction mission, really. Shouldn’t have been too much of a problem. Roman Phillips was known for his skills at extracting a target (both voluntarily and involuntarily), no matter the place or time. Being well established in the field, he was assigned on a solo mission by the leader of the intelligence agency he worked for, the Rogers Institute for Intelligence and Security (known more commonly as RIIS). The essential details of the solo mission were that the target was male, had purple-tipped hair, and was carrying a dangerous package with him. According to the mission briefing, the man was most likely aware of the package. That could make the process more difficult, but Roman had no doubt he could extract the target. If he didn’t, the entire organization was at stake—the target, Virgil Morris, was carrying the names and personal information of almost every agent in the intelligence agency. Obviously there would be people searching for that kind of information, specifically, the institution known as COTECH. COTECH was a scientific organization gone wrong: their leaders were deemed corrupt and health and safety checks had failed in each of their facilities. They had to go underground to continue their practices, but now they were determined to undermine RIIS and regain their status. 

A fellow agent, Logan Fletcher, had recently returned from a long term infiltration mission into COTECH with the information that an extraction was scheduled at 9:30 a.m. on July 23rd: Just one day after the briefing. Roman had to work hard to discover what would convince him not to make the transaction, but he thought he had a peg on it. Chances of the man having malicious intent—and being prepared for a trained agent such as Roman—were very high. That meant he’d probably have to bring some extra charm. And a clever disguise. But he was prepared. Yes, if anything, he was prepared for this mission. He knew everything there was to know about Virgil: Where he worked, social life (he had a good friend named Patton Baker, but other than that he only had a few mutual friends and acquaintances. Not a huge fan of parties), down to what he ate for breakfast (Which was usually…nothing with a side of coffee. Roman was almost concerned for the poor man when he read that). 

As the sky darkened over the gleaming high rise Roman was situated in, he finished with the formulation of his plan. A clean extraction. Civilian clothing (With a little flair, naturally), meeting place, and, of course, two pistols concealed in his jacket in case things went sideways. Roman had planned for everything that he could see happening—that was his specialty. His creativity in anticipating his targets. One last thing was left: getting his beauty sleep. He locked the last of his plans in a safe, showered, and prepped for the busy day that would come tomorrow. 

No amount of preparation or creativity could have anticipated what was to happen, though.


	2. Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A few mild curse words

Virgil woke up feeling sore and just as exhausted as he had been the night before. Work had been more strenuous than normal. Now, loading and unloading boxes wasn’t something that he would describe as a walk in the park in the first place, but his co-worker had ditched his shift, leaving Virgil with twice the work and half the time. His whole body was aching from the lifting, he was mentally exhausted from the stress of having to work double time, and to make matters worse, he ran out of coffee. All he had was enough to make a quarter of a pot. _Can that even count as ‘enough?’ ‘Not fair’ is what it is_ , Virgil thought bitterly. He was more bitter than black coffee. Or what he wished his black coffee would taste like. He glared at the coffee pot before turning to get dressed for work and apply his makeup. _I’ve been awake for ten minutes and I’m almost certain this day is going to suck._

_Fantastic._ Virgil was sure to apply plenty of eyeshadow under his eyes to stress to both his boss and co-worker how exhausted he was. The process of getting dressed and psyching himself to even step out of the front door was an arduous one, and the pit of dread that was welling up in his stomach didn’t make it better. He began to contemplate quitting his job, or at least asking for a raise, as he locked the apartment door behind him. He was not in the mood for any games today.

But Fate was determined to laugh in his face anyways.

As Virgil turned to cross through an alleyway (an excellent shortcut, he might add), a stranger bumped into his shoulder.

“Sorry! Sorry, my bad,” The man said. Virgil whipped around to tell the poor guy off, but he froze in place as he saw the man’s features. This dude looks like a prince. The man had golden-brown, wavy hair on his head. It practically shimmered in the sunlight (How is that even fair??). He wore a fitted red and white jacket and dark jeans, which almost enhanced the princely look.

It was looking at the cheekbones, however, that took Virgil’s breath away. They were no Benedict Cumberbatch for sure, but damn. The strategically placed shadows of the alleyway didn’t make it it any easier on his gay heart—which was probably going at the speed of light at this point. Or maybe it had just stopped.

_You’re taking too long, you need to respond!_ The back corner of his mind urged. His hands started sweating as he tried to stop himself from being too gay to function. He failed.

“N-no, it’s okay. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention,” He added quickly, contemplating if the man would let him touch his cheekb— _stop thinking about his cheekbones, you idiot!_

“No worries. You…okay there?”

“Yes. Yeah, I’m…I’m fine.” They held eye contact for a second more before the man broke the silence.

“I’m Roman. It’s nice to meet you…” Roman trailed off, waiting for an introduction. Virgil stared for a second longer before realizing it was his cue to respond.

“Virgil. Nice to meet you.”

“Virgil.” His face heated up as he heard his name roll over Roman’s tongue. “Mind if I walk with you? I think we’re going the same way.” Roman pointed to the alley. Virgil blinked twice, barely able to process what had just been proposed with the limited amount of coffee he had consumed.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” Virgil began walking without waiting for Roman to follow. He hoped that that could conceal his blush, but Roman jogged to catch up. He resorted to looking at his feet.

Roman’s mind also happened to be going at the speed of light, but for very different reasons. Mostly.

_Crap. He knows. He’s probably read through the list a hundred times. He must already know everything about me._

_He will make a strong opponent. Hopefully I can brush aside the COTECH agents like I usually do and deal with this adversary alone. I suspect Virgil himself is the mastermind of the operation. He has the motive, of course. He’d never have to work lifting boxes again._

_But I wonder why he hasn’t brought the cat out of the bag yet. Maybe he’s planning on ambushing me and needs his agents to get into place._

_That means I should make the first move. Throw off his plans. Then the agents behind him will be disorganized and unprepared for an ambush, giving me the upper hand._

“Let’s not delay this conversation any longer, Virgil. I know you have it,” Roman said without looking at Virgil.

“What…are you talking about?”

“The files. I am aware that you hacked our database and stole that information. It took quite a bit of effort—and I admit I admire that—but I need it back.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Virgil said, trying to remain calm. Roman stopped and turned toward Virgil, who looked back at him warily.

“It’s okay to drop the act. I’m not trying to fight you here. You just…you can’t trust COTECH with the information on those files. I seriously doubt that they’ll just buy them and go.” Roman grabbed Virgil’s wrist to stop him from walking away. Virgil turned on him, appearing more angry than scared. His voice suggested otherwise, though.

“Look, you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t have the…chip thing or whatever. I don’t even know how to hack a computer.” He tugged his arm to escape Roman’s grasp, but the agent held fast. Virgil’s eyes snapped back to Roman’s, shocked by the concealed strength. “Let me go. I’m going to be late for work.”

“Work should be the least of your worries at this point, Virgil. Just give me back the chip and I will ensure that the agents from COTECH do you no harm. Where are you planning on meeting them? Or are they already here?” Roman searched Virgil’s eyes for some twitch that would suggest he had the chip, but he realized after a second that all he had was a very flustered and confused bystander. _Shit. We got the wrong guy. How could we have messed up this bad? Our organization has never made a mistake like this._

Virgil swallowed hard, trying to shove down the thoughts about how attractive this dude looked when he was flustered and focusing on the fact that he had literally just started speaking gibberish. _What the hell is COTECH? Why am I, of all people, being accused of hacking secret government (Government? He wasn’t sure) files? Can you cut fingers on cheekbo—Damn it._

Roman watched Virgil’s eyes flick to something behind him and turned to see just the people he didn’t need: COTECH agents. They dropped down from the walls they were hiding on and pulled out weapons.

“ _Mierda!_ ” Roman yelled. He turned to fully face the agents, drawing a pistol from inside his jacket and pulling Virgil behind him. He felt the shorter man shudder. “I’m sorry to get you caught up in this. Stay behind me and I’ll get you out of here.” He interpreted a second shudder as an ‘okay’ and began to size up his opponents.

There were two men, both of which he recognized from previous missions. The one on the left was an excellent disguise maker. Legendary, in fact. He had once nearly convinced Roman that he was the extraction target Roman needed. Eventually, though, it hadn’t been hard to take him down and make a safe extraction. This dude, who literally nicknamed himself “Deceit,” definitely didn’t make it easy, though. His agency was still working on finding his true identity.

The other man was, in Roman’s opinion, even worse. The man was bloodthirsty and careless. Not only that, but he had a quite ugly mustache. He would do anything it took for a mission success. Anything. That could mean steeping in a literal dumpster for five hours waiting for his target to cross paths (Yes, he had done that. Even though the confrontation had only lasted for ten minutes, the stench stayed in Roman’s nose for hours. The poor target had been much worse off) to attempting to murder the victim just to keep RIIS from getting them. That time had been Roman’s darkest hour by far. He shook his head to try to forget the memory. _No. I cannot—I will not—let that happen again._ He glared at the infamous agent named Remus and clicked off the safety on his weapon.

“So nice to see you again, Roman,” The man known as Deceit hissed.

“Get lost, Deceit. You’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure we have. Hand him over and we won’t make this more bloody than it needs to be.”

“You wouldn’t want things to go down the way they did last time, would you?” Remus added with a suggestive grin. Roman’s fingers tightened around the gun.

“What do you want from him?” Roman asked, avoiding Remus’s penetrating eyes.

“Same thing as you, Roman,” Deceit responded, looking more than a little bored. “Remus, why don’t we move straight to plan G? I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“Certainly,” Remus said, but made no movements save a twitch of his hand. The nasty grin stayed plastered on his face.

“Plan G? Wow, you guys are bad at your jobs,” Roman laughed.

“Not as bad as you would believe.” Deceit and Remus began backing out of the alleyway. “We’ll see you soon, Roman.”

“Where the hell are you going?” There was no response. As soon as they were out of sight and he checked their surroundings, he whirled back around to face Virgil, who was still trembling from the confrontation. He seemed frozen in place, and his breathing was shallow. His eyes were stuck on the ground, blocking his face from Roman’s view. “Virgil, are you alright?” Virgil shook his head slowly, and Roman realized he might be on the verge of a panic attack. _Virgil’s personal files mentioned that he struggles with anxiety. Oh dear._ Virgil’s knees began to buckle and Roman pulled him closer to support him. _I have to get us out of here. But I won’t be able to unless Virgil can walk._

“Virgil. Virgil! Breathe, you have to breathe! I am not equipped for this,” He added in a whisper. Roman was beginning to feel a little lightheaded himself. _That’s unusual…I don’t struggle with anx—oh_. Too late, he realized there was an unusual amount of “steam” rising from the sewer hatch in the alleyway. His own knees began to give way, and the two of them fell to the ground, unconscious. When the smoke cleared, Deceit and Remus returned with a few COTECH personnel.

“Collect the bodies and move them to the safe house facility on Trenton and Kings Street. Remus and I will take care of them there,” Deceit ordered. He grabbed Remus’s arm as the personnel took care of Roman and Virgil. “And Remus?” He said quietly.

“Yes?”

“Once the personnel are gone, there’s something I need you to do to ensure that the prisoners don’t get away. Since we lack the proper facilities at the safe house.”

“And what would that be?” Remus’s eyes twinkled with a million (probably gruesome) ideas.

“Firstly, I want you to handcuff them together.” Remus let out a huff of laughter.

“And secondly?”

“Break Virgil’s ankle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's going to need so much coffee. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos you left on my work! It really helps to motivate me. <3


	3. Let's Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman make an escape. With a few obstacles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kudos and support! :D
> 
> Warnings: Mild depiction of injury. Stop reading at "Remus's Handiwork," start at "'We need to...'"

Remus stood with Deceit in the darkened safe house that served as a loading zone between COTECH facilities. Remus glanced down at the two victims of their most recent mission. 

“Honestly, Janus, we should work together more often. Not only did we capture our main extraction target, but we also got a RIIS _agent!_ Now how often does that happen, would you say?” Remus fiddled with his mustache. 

“I can only think of two occasions before. And Remus, you remember what I said about using that name. Not in front of the _guests_.”

“Oh, they’re _fine_. Shouldn’t be awake for another hour at least.”

“Even so,” _Deceit_ said softly. Remus nodded.

“I must ask, though, why break the purple-haired one’s ankle?”

“Well, quite a few reasons. If we were to break Roman’s ankle, he could deal with it. He’s a spy, and he’s trained that way. But Virgil is not. So handcuffing Roman to a man that can’t walk will keep them both down until we have the proper facilities. And even if Roman does manage the dislocate-your-thumb trick, he won’t be able to carry Virgil with him and escape. That means he’ll either have to make a break for it—which would still leave us with the chip that Virgil has—or he will have to try to carry Virgil out of the facility, which won’t get him very far.”

“But what if Roman takes the chip and runs?”

“He can’t.”

“Why?” Remus said, intrigued. 

“Unbeknownst to Virgil, and probably all of RIIS for that matter, the chip was implanted in his arm. You can imagine what it would take to get that out.”

“A large, sharp knife,” Remus’s eyes glimmered. Deceit raised an eyebrow. 

“…Yes. I think it would be a good idea to extract that chip fairly soon, do you not?”

“Oh, I would have to agree with you,” Remus smirked. “Shall we make the preparations?”

“Let’s. It should take over an hour to assemble everything, so we should be done right after they’ve had enough time to realize the… _hopelessness_ of their situation.” 

“Perfect.” Remus grabbed Deceit’s hand and dragged him to another room of the facility, leaving the spy and the worker alone. 

Roman’s eyes fluttered open as soon as Remus and Deceit were out of earshot. He glanced over at Virgil on his right to see he was still sleeping. The gas—or whatever drugs they had used to sedate him—had worn off sooner than Deceit anticipated. He had been conscious through part of Deceit and Remus’s conversation, enough to discover that Remus was a psychopath and that Virgil had a chip implanted into his arm. From the sound of it, Virgil was unaware. _But how could they have operated on Virgil without him knowing? And_ why _?_

He shifted his weight so he could stand, but the sound of metal clinking against metal stopped him. His eyes shot to his right hand. _Are those…handcuffs? If they’re trying to confuse me, then they have succeeded. Are they really that bad at trying to stop me from escaping? As soon as Virgil wakes up, we can just—_

Virgil gasped for air, suddenly clenching his fists. Roman scrunched his eyebrows. _That’s…not a normal reaction to waking up from sleeping gas._

_There must be something wrong here._

“Virgil?” Roman whispered, glancing at the dazed man. “You okay there?”

Virgil shook his head, eyes watering. “My…leg,” He said hoarsely. Roman watched as he tapped his left leg. He crawled closer to the place Virgil had pointed to, careful not to create much noise. It was an awkward process with the handcuffs, to say the least, but only Roman noticed that. Virgil was too far into a haze of pain to see, let alone care.

“Do you mind if I look at it?” Virgil studied the man for a moment before nodding.

Roman gently lifted the end of Virgil’s pants leg, causing Virgil to inhale sharply. The hot tears came rolling down his face and a wave of heat crashed through his entire body. Roman clasped a hand over his own mouth in shock as he stared at Remus’s handiwork. 

_What kind of a person could do this?_ Even in the darkness, Roman could see that the ankle was swollen far more than it should be. It was dark purple and blue, but the darkened cuff of Virgil’s jeans suggested that there was a cut somewhere as well. He was in no condition to walk, but they needed to get him to a hospital. 

“We need to get you out of here,” Roman whispered quickly. “Now.”

“I don’t think…I can walk, Princey.” Virgil paused for a moment before letting out a small giggle. “Heh. Princey.” Roman furrowed his brows but brushed it off. 

“I have an idea to get you out. But you need to be very quiet.” Virgil sucked in a lungful of air and nodded. “Do you think you can manage to stand if I help you up?”

“Uh…yeah? I think so,” Virgil squinted at his ankle. “It’s gonna hurt no matter what I do.”

“Good.” Roman stood up, keeping his handcuffed arm on Virgil’s shoulder. “Grab on my hand and I’ll help pull you up.”

“Ha. Smooth.” Roman’s face flushed. _Didn’t this dude’s profile say he was straight?_

“That’s not what I—” he grunted as Virgil hoisted himself up, keeping his left leg out in front of him to avoid bending it and causing himself more pain. “Okay, put your arm around my shoulder—stop giving me that look. Just do what I say.” Virgil’s smirk only increased at the addition, and the heat on Roman’s face came back with a passion. He couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or something else… _no, it’s just frustration. Nope, nothing else._ He searched for an exit to the building.

_Wherever the hell we are._ He scowled, the stress of finding an escape before his captors discovered him beginning to press down on his chest. There was a clamor in the other room that put Roman so on edge that he wanted to bolt for the nearest hiding spot and wait it out. But he reminded himself that he had another person with him—Virgil’s protection was _the agency_ ’s highest priority. So he continued to search for a door. A secret hatch. Anything.

After about five minutes of searching by Roman’s estimate, he found an exit that seemed promising. At least, less of a dead end than the other hallways he had followed. He tried the door, and it opened onto an emptying street. Night was falling outside. _Oh no. That means we’ve been out for at least eight hours. Probably more. What kind of sedative did they use on us?_ He quickly brushed off the question when he heard another clamor from inside. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and Virgil, who was being remarkably quiet and patient despite the situation. He would attend to the shorter man when he was a safe distance away from the facility. 

For now, it was time to run.

Or, well, speed walk with three legs. 

They moved as quickly as Roman could manage down the street, but he could feel Virgil’s grip around his shoulder weakening after walking just one block. _This isn’t going to last. No, it can’t._ He pulled aside into a narrow alleyway and leaned Virgil against the wall. The both of them found themselves winded and in need of a rest. Roman glanced Virgil and saw his eyes closing slowly. Tear streaks were running through his dark makeup, more than Roman had been able to see in the darkened “safe” house. He noticed the purple-tipped bangs that partially hid his eyes, the crossbow shape of his upper lip and how one of his eyebrows stayed raised as he caught his breath. 

Roman had seen Virgil before. On the target profile, there had been numerous photos from social media, yearbooks, and even security tapes that had been compiled in order to give Roman a better idea of what Virgil looked like. He thought he had a pretty good idea of what Virgil looked like then. And when they finally met in person? He was pretty sure he had seen everything there was to see. The portrait of Virgil Morris was complete in Roman’s head. 

But it wasn’t, was it? There was so much more he seemed to be missing. Things he wouldn’t have noticed, had this gone as planned.

_Maybe it was worth it, then._

_He really is beautiful._

“What are you looking at, Princey?” Virgil mumbled, without turning his head towards the spy. Roman blinked twice before breaking out of his rapid chain of thought. 

“Nothing. I’m just surprised, is all. A typical extraction mission goes _way_ smoother than this. And now we’re, well…” He lifted up his right hand, where the handcuff stood as a reminder that his job was not done yet. 

“Sorry, did you just say _extraction mission_?” Virgil said with a voice as dry as sandpaper. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Virgil, I…have a lot of explaining to do. You got thrust into this, and you should not have been. I promise I will explain it all to you later. Once we’ve gotten you to a place that can fix your leg, I’ll tell you everything I have jurisdiction to say.” Virgil scrunched his brows, but Roman went on. “What I can tell you now is that I am a spy with the Rogers Institute for Intelligence and Security, also known as RIIS. I was assigned to get a hard drive, or microchip, or some piece of tech that has very important information on it. But…our information was misleading to say the least.” Virgil’s shoulders went slack.

“You got the wrong guy.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Roman sighed. _I can’t tell him the truth right now. It would be too much for one night._ No one spoke until a police siren forced them back to reality. “We should get moving.”

“Roman, I…” Virgil blinked rapidly. “I don’t think I can walk. Not much more, at least.” Roman glanced down at Virgil’s leg. The darkened cuff sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Okay, um…let me see. COTECH will be looking for us in public places, which means…” The spy put his free hand to his forehead. “Which means no hospitals,” he groaned. “I need to find a private estate _very_ close by that can help fix you up. Someone who has no affiliation with you. COTECH will be checking the homes of all your friends.”

“They won’t be that busy, then,” Virgil muttered. Roman sent a raised eyebrow Virgil’s way. 

“You are an emo nightmare, you know that?”

“I have had exactly one cup of coffee today. Don’t test me, Princey.” Roman’s head snapped up. 

“Aha! Logan!” 

“What?”

“I know where to go. He _might_ kill me for bothering him, as he’s supposedly on vacation, but I think he’ll make an exception for you. Let’s go.”

“And…my leg?” Roman paused for a moment before turning to face Virgil.

“You’re probably not going to enjoy this. Sorry,” He said before wrapping his handcuffed hand in front of Virgil then around his back. In one swift motion, he stooped down and swept Virgil up, carrying him bridal style.

“HEY!” Virgil protested, kicking his uninjured leg out. 

“I said I was sorry. It’s only temporary. Logan’s pretty close.”

“Put me down. I have a reputation.”

“As an emo nightmare? What you have is an injured leg and a lot of enemies.” Roman huffed. Virgil narrowed his eyes at the spy and hissed in the general direction of his face.

“Did you just… _hiss_ at me?” 

Virgil crossed his arms. “Maybe.” 

To Virgil’s apparent surprise, Roman just laughed. Or giggled. It was dazzling. Virgil could hear a twinkle in his voice and saw the dusting of red on his cheeks. It made his own cheeks heat up, despite the pain-induced haze he was feeling. 

_This is kinda nice._ They both thought to themselves. 


	4. Worse Than We Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman gets the help of an old friend. They get a better look at Virgil's wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Description of injury. Stop at "Logan was right," Start at "'I believe it says...'"  
> I tried to keep the description to a minimum.

Logan was disturbed from his evening routine by a knock on the door. Unusual, of course, because he was not planning on guests. Certainly not at this hour. Certainly not while he was on leave from his work. He hoped he wasn’t getting pulled back into the field, especially not after the exhausting mission he had just completed. 

He grabbed his preloaded gun—with a silencer, of course. This was a residential area and he’s not an _animal_ —and approached the door. Once he glanced through the peephole, however, his left hand relaxed and he opened the door. 

“Roman. Wha—”

“Logan. Look, I have no time to explain. This is Virgil. We need your help.” Logan glanced at the man in Roman’s arms. Purple-tipped hair. Eyes barely open. Logan took a deep breath in and brushed aside the many questions he had. _They will be answered later._

“Come inside. What’s wrong with him?”

“Broken ankle, I think. Didn’t have time to look closely.” Logan closed the door behind them and surveyed the room. Quickly, he went to his dining room table and removed the tablecloth. 

“Set him here,” He said as he closed any curtains that would make the area visible. He brightened the overhead lights and immediately saw the dark stain on the cuff of Virgil’s jeans. “Grab me a jug of water and some cloths to clean the wounds. You know where everything is.”

“I, uh…” Roman scratched the back of his head. 

“What is it?” Roman opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it. Instead, he lifted his right hand, revealing the handcuff. Logan looked at Roman, then the handcuff, then back at Roman. He sighed and moved to the kitchen.

“I cannot believe you sometimes, Roman. The situations you get yourself tangled into.” 

“Sorry, _mom_.” Logan shot him a look as he returned with the supplies. 

“Injury is the first priority. Then I’ll see if I can pick the lock.” He took off Virgil’s shoe and sock, then began to pull up the cuff of his jeans to better examine the injury. He only got half an inch up before leaving to the medicine cabinet. 

“Roman, what medicine does Virgil take on a daily basis?”

“Lexapro.”

“SSRI? Hm. In that case, I don’t have any pain medication here that I can give him without increasing risk of internal bleeding,”

“Damn.” Virgil whispered. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, deciding to go for the bandages instead. He made his way back to the table, setting down all of the bandages he had. 

“Roman, look away while I do this.”

“What? I’ve seen plenty of blood. This won’t—“

“I said, turn away. Do it.” Roman didn’t wait a moment to turn around when he heard Logan’s tone of voice. He instead resorted to glancing at Virgil, whose eyes were fluttering shut. The man looked exhausted, and Roman didn't blame him. He had been through his own share of injuries and knew the feeling. He flinched as he remembered a certain extraction mi— _No. Not right now._

Loganturned his attention back to the ankle. He gently held up Virgil’s foot and resumed the progress of rolling up the cuff of his jeans, causing Virgil to cry out. When he finished, he breathed in sharply. The jeans were rolled all the way to Virgil’s knee. 

“Remus did this,” Logan muttered. 

“Y—yes. How did you know?”

“He decided to sign his handiwork.” 

“What?!” Roman whirled around despite Logan’s warning and a hand flew to his mouth.

Logan was right. At Virgil’s ankle, Roman could see the almost-black, swollen bruise that he had seen before. But it was much worse than he could have known. Remus had cut something into the side of Virgil’s leg—a name, most likely. The cuts didn’t seem to be deep enough to cause permanent muscle damage, but it was definitely going to leave scars. 

“Do you know what it says?” Roman said slowly. He swallowed thickly as he stared at the dried blood matting Virgil’s calf. 

“I believe it says COTECH.” Logan adjusted his glasses, blinking rapidly. Roman clenched his fist. 

“I’m going to kill that b—“

“ _Roman._ You need to focus on your mission right now,” He nodded towards Virgil, who was now looking between the two agents. “Worry about killing Remus later.”

“Guys? What’s…going on?” Virgil asked. Roman glanced back at Logan for help, but Logan had resumed his attentions on the injured leg. 

“Um…it seems that the injury was worse than we thought.” 

“I thought my ankle was just sprained, though. What…what else is there?” Roman’s throat seemed to dry up.

“You…can’t feel it?” He whispered. 

“Feel wh—” Virgil cut himself off as Logan began to clean the cuts. His expression dropped from confusion to shock. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “How did I not feel that before?”

“It’s quite an interesting phenomenon, really,” Logan said. “The pain from one injury distracts you from the other. It’s like when you pinch yourself in the right spot and the pain from a headache suddenly seems much less intense. I—”

“Logan. This probably isn’t the greatest time for this,” Roman tipped his head towards Virgil, who now appeared much more upset than before. Logan studied Virgil for a moment.

“My apologies, Virgil. I did not intend to upset you.”

“N—no, it’s okay. This is all just…a mess. I need some sleep.”

“I’m almost done here. Then I will show you to the guest room.” Logan finished with the cleaning of the wound and moved on to inspect the ankle. After a moment, he moved to the kitchen and shuffled through his freezer. 

“All I can do for your ankle right now, Virgil, is give you this ice pack and tell you to elevate,” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You will eventually have to visit a hospital and treat this. It _is_ broken, unfortunately. Preferably within two days, if you’d like to recover fully from it.” Virgil nodded. “Meanwhile, I will wrap these other scars. You’ll most likely have to change them in the morning.” 

“Okay.” Logan began wrapping Virgil’s leg, from his knee to his ankle. 

“Roman, if you finish this up for me, I’ll see what I can do about the handcuffs.”

About an hour later, Virgil had fallen asleep on the guest bed and Logan had set out tea for Roman and himself. Roman had insisted on taking the couch as his sleeping quarters despite Logan offering his own bed. He knew that Logan didn’t appreciate an unplanned change of routine, and he didn’t want to make it any more complicated. 

Roman sipped the tea Logan had offered him, careful not to make the first move in the conversation. He had no idea where he was supposed to start, anyways. Logan’s eyes flicked towards Roman and seemed to sense this.

“Virgil is the man we’ve been looking for?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded, not revealing anything. He was good at that.

“I spent months believing he was going to be…one of the bad guys.”

“Me too. Turns out, he had no idea. _Has_ no idea. About the chip.”

“How so?”

“The incompetent COTECH agents we were left with started talking about it right in front of us. I only woke up from the sedative about halfway through their conversation, but it was enough to hear that the chip was somehow implanted into Virgil without his knowledge.” Logan’s brows furrowed. 

“I wonder how they could have done that…It would only be feasible if they had implanted it during a surgery. A recent surgery, at that. Were there any that you’d heard of when you read the file?”

“I…didn’t pay much attention to those.” Roman scratched the back of his head. Logan sighed.

“Roman, there’s a reason we give you those.” 

“I know, it just didn’t seem relevant to the mission. At the time.” 

“You of all people should know that _everything_ is relevant.” 

Roman shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to ask him. You know, like normal human beings do.” 

“How dare you,” Logan said monotonously, taking a sip of his tea. 

“I’m a disgrace, I know.” Logan glanced at Roman and decided to take his chances with another question. 

“About Virgil.” Roman looked up at Logan, trying to see where he was going. “What will happen to him? After the mission is done?”

“What do you mean?” Roman chuckled, eyes flicking back down. “Same thing as everyone else. He’ll get _heavily_ compensated and he’ll go off and live his life. We’ll probably never see each other again.” Logan hesitated a moment before standing up and putting his teacup in the sink. 

“You remember the rules, Roman. You can’t get attached.” 

“I’m n—wh…what in that _entire_ sentence made you think I was attached? I _literally_ said—”

“It’s not about what you said, Roman. It’s about what you _didn’t_ say.” Logan said as he returned to the couch. “I may be assigned a lot of infiltration missions, but my specialty is interrogations. I can see how you feel ab—“

“ _I don’t love him!_ ” Roman whisper-hissed, face flushed. Logan’s mouth closed. “How could I? I’ve barely known him for a day. Three hours, tops. And there are so many other reasons that it can’t happen.” Roman put down his tea and put his head in his hands. “I need to go to sleep. Have to wake up early tomorrow. We can’t stay here for much longer or you’ll be a target as well.” Logan nodded and picked up Roman’s teacup. He paused in the doorway to his bedroom. 

“I love someone too, you know.” He muttered before closing the door. Roman lifted his head, just a second too late to capture any expression that might have explained _what the hell that meant_. 

Eventually he sighed and decided just to go to sleep. This was something he’d worry about in the morning. 

He'd just have to survive the nightmares that sleep always seemed to bring him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love that angst. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos and kind comments you leave! <3


	5. A Few Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Roman theorize. Virgil has some problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Descriptions of a panic attack, stop at "Logan added calmly."

Although sleeping had been a difficult process for Virgil, as his range of motion was limited by the fact that he had to elevate his foot, the waking up part was somehow worse. Once Virgil finally drifted off, he was able to forget about the pain in his leg. But when he opened his eyes in the morning, his body bombarded him with even more demands. First was the reminder of his leg, when he shifted to try and stretch. Then, when he finally managed to work around the sheets of the bed and get his uninjured foot on the ground, his stomach began to seize up with the reminder that he hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours. His left arm was sore from draping it over Roman’s shoulder during their escape. 

Oh, and to make matters worse, he hadn’t taken any of his anti-anxiety medication. None yesterday, and he was pretty sure that Logan didn’t keep any on hand. _So none today, either_. _Fun._

He blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. The prospect of having to walk made his stomach churn, but he decided the need for sustenance outweighed the pain. _Wow, that brings back some college student memories._

Before Virgil could change his mind, he pushed himself forward and onto his one good leg. The balancing was a bit sketchy, and he got a painful reminder of what happens when The Foot touches the ground. However, by the time he had navigated to the door, he was getting more of a hang on it. He quietly opened his door and peeked out to the rest of the house.

The door opened to a quaint, yet modern living space. There was a small dining room straight across from him, past the door that appeared to be the entrance of the house. A pristine kitchen stood in the next room over, across from the front door. The living room was on a slightly lower level than the kitchen and the dining table—there was a single wooden step joining the two parts of the room. As Virgil stepped out of his bedroom, he saw the light in the living space was provided by large windows that he couldn’t see bef— _OH SHIT_! Virgil twisted against the wall by his door that hid him from the angle of the window. 

Roman was right there. Staring out the window. This _might_ not have been a problem, except for the fact that he was shirtless. 

Virgil took a deep, shaky breath. _I am_ not _prepared for this. Nope nope nope nope nope. I’m just gonna go back to my room and forget the gay thoughts, you’re tired and overthinking it. Just go back to sleep and—_

“Virgil? Is that you?” _ABORT. ABORT. RUN AWAY AND HIDE._

“Um, yeah. I was just gonna, uh—” Roman strode around the corner to where Virgil was leaning against the wall, pulling on his shirt as he went. Not fast enough for Virgil to miss seeing Roman’s stomach. And the abs. _And here I was, thinking the cheekbones were too much. Wait, no, stop looking at his shirt!_ Virgil’s eyes flicked up to look at Roman, who was wearing a concerned expression. 

“You good there?”

“Y—yeah, I’m just. Um. Catching my breath.” _I mean, that’s not completely inaccurate…_ Roman’s features softened in understanding. 

“Do you need a hand? It can’t be easy on one foot, and I’m pretty sure Logan doesn’t have any crutches in here.” _Ah. So his name is Logan._

“No, I’m…I’m okay. I just needed to take a break,” Virgil stuttered, and pushed himself off the wall. He tried to navigate himself around Roman and towards the kitchen, but ended up stumbling and leaning against the other wall. At least now he wasn’t so close to Roman that he could smell the man’s cologne. 

“You need help,” Roman said, more as a statement of fact than an opinion. Virgil sighed. He did _not_ like asking for help. And the fact that it was a hot dude who was already seemingly better than him in every way didn’t help the situation. Luckily, Roman didn’t force Virgil to make a verbal concession, instead opting to wrap his arm around Virgil’s waist. _Wait._

“Don’t you dare pick me up, Princey.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a reputation, I know,” Roman joked. Virgil reluctantly slung his arm over Roman’s shoulder and they navigated their way to the kitchen. 

“Where’s the coffee?” Virgil asked. _No, wait, you were supposed to eat food this morning. But coffee does sound kinda good right now…_

“I don’t recommend drinking coffee until you’ve had something to eat,” a voice called out. Virgil glanced behind himself to see another man—assumedly Logan—step out from the other bedroom. He adjusted the cuffs of a black button-down shirt and straightened his tie as he moved into the kitchen, straight past Virgil and Roman to a skillet that rested on one of the stove burners. He lifted it up and showed it to Virgil. “You should try eating some of this first. Roman told me that you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Well, since two days ago, but yeah. I will.” Roman looked at Virgil with increased concern, but Logan took over the lecturing before he could say anything.

“Virgil, you should know that skipping breakfast makes for a very unhealthy lifestyle. It can lead to headaches and increased likelihood of heart disease later in life,” Logan said as he dished out some of the food onto a small plate. He then offered the plate up to Virgil.

“Thanks, mom,” Virgil said as he took the plate. Roman snorted. 

“See, Logan? I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a mom.” 

“I’m not—I—,” Logan sighed. By this time, Virgil was sitting down and had already consumed half of the food on the plate. 

“Look, Virgil, you helped me break him.” Virgil giggled. He didn’t notice the look of awe that Roman made when he saw the small smile on Virgil’s face. Logan did. 

“In all seriousness, Virgil,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses, “Do you have your anti-anxiety medication with you?” 

“My—wait, how do you know about that?” Virgil’s eyes snapped up from the rapidly emptying plate.

“Roman told me. Did he not explain his job to you?”

“Logan, right now might not be…”

“No, I want to hear this.” Virgil said, turning his head towards Roman. His tone was more challenging than Roman had ever heard before. “How do you know about my medication?”

“Well, um…Do you remember how I told you I was a spy? Last night, before we got to Logan’s house?”

“Kinda. Memory’s a little foggy.”

“Well, my specialty as a spy is to extract a target and take them in to the agency. In order to do that, I have to study the target in depth. The workers of RIIS, which is the agency Logan and I work for, always compile a detailed background on the target. So, when I was assigned to take you back to headquarters, I had to study that background folder. Memorize it.”

“That’s…kind of creepy.” Virgil said, one eyebrow raised. Roman shrugged.

“It’s the job. We have to know our targets, or we could be taken advantage of.” 

“Yeah, as if I could beat you in a fight.” It was Roman’s turn to look confused.

“Okay, first of all, you lift heavy boxes all day for a living. Your upper body strength could probably _match_ mine. Secondly, all of RIIS believed you were a top priority, extremely dangerous threat not two days ago.” 

“Seriously?” Virgil huffed. “Why?” Roman looked at Logan, who nodded expectantly. 

“Uh, do you remember our first encounter?” 

_You mean when I had the equivalent of a gay panic attack over your cheekbones? Yeah, I don’t think I could ever forget that,_ Virgil thought.

“Yeah, I think so,” Is what Virgil actually said. 

“I asked you—well, I should probably say _interrogated_ you—for a chip of some sort. And you didn’t know what it was.”

“Yep. Still don’t.” Roman’s eyes flicked away from Virgil. 

“Well, uh…when you were still unconscious, our two captors began talking about how they were going to extract said chip. Which was implanted into your arm. Probably without your knowledge.” 

“But that makes no sense. I’ve…I’ve never had a surgery in my arm.” Logan stroked his chin, thinking. 

“Would it have been possible for them to have implanted it in a vaccine shot?” he said. 

“It’s possible,” Roman said, pacing across the kitchen. “But it sounded like it would be bigger. When they said they would extract the chip…” He glanced at Virgil, “Remus said he was going to use a large knife to do so.” 

Virgil shuddered. _This Remus guy is messed up._

“Uh, what was on the chip that’s so important?” he asked when he finally regained his voice. 

“Personal information and ways to find almost every agent in RIIS,” Roman recited calmly. The blood drained from Virgil’s face. “One could topple the agency with information like that.”

“Not only that, but the hacker who retrieved the data had to go through multiple security systems for just a _few_ names. We keep all the identification in separate places so that no hacker can go in and find everyone at one time. To do all of that without tripping a single alarm takes _years.”_ Logan stressed. “Fortunately for us, the unknown hacker did trip an alarm, near the end of his data collection. We were able to trace it back to a COTECH facility. And that’s when the higher-ups decided to assign me with another infiltration mission.” 

“Also where we found out that you had the chip in your possession. Thankfully, Logan managed to find out where they were going to take it back,” Roman finished.

“So…you’ve been working to find information about me for how long?”

“About four months,” Roman said. The number dropped to the pit of Virgil’s stomach. _They’ve been looking for me for that long? And in all this time…_ Logan studied Virgil’s reaction for a moment.

“Virgil, perhaps it would be ideal for you to take a shower. This is a lot of information and I’m sure you would like some time to take it in.”

“Sure. Thanks,” Virgil said, sliding off of his chair shakily. Without saying anything, Roman moved to Virgil’s side and helped him walk to the shower (which Virgil was thankful for, as he had no idea where he was going). 

Once Roman had returned to the room, out of earshot from the shower, Logan spoke. “There’s something wrong about this whole mission. Why would the agents not know where the chip is? They seemed fairly confident in its location. Virgil should have at least noticed he had a scar that would have indicated something went wrong.” 

“Unless he does…and he’s hiding it from us. He _does_ always wear that hoodie.”

“Unlikely. Virgil seemed very uncomfortable at the _idea_ of something being implanted without his permission. But…”

“What?”

“Is it possible that the agents purposefully misled you about the location?”

“Why would they? And, how would they even know I was awake enough to overhear them?”

“I can’t say to the first one. But as for the second, those two agents had control over the sedative dosage. They should have known when it wore off. I’m not ruling out that they were completely incompetent yet, but why would the dosage be so far off? Furthermore, how did you escape so easily?”

——

Virgil stared at the bandage stretching from his ankle to his knee. 

_Come on, it’s time to take it off. You need to shower. Just take a deep breath and do it._

He closed his eyes and began unraveling it, not sure what to expect. 

The unmistakable gashes, and the words they spelled out, instantly made him feel sick—the kind of sickness that is more born from dread than from something you ate. He felt a slight tremor in his hand. 

——

“When was the last time you checked in with RIIS, Roman? They’re probably wondering where you are.”

“Good point. I’ll do that,” Roman pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a small wristwatch. He tapped into one of RIIS’s report frequencies by turning a dial on the side. “This is R. C. P., reporting in.” 

No response, which was quite unusual. The line he tapped into should have instantly connected to an agent at one of their buildings.

“This is R. C. P., reporting in.” A crackling, buzzing noise came from the watch. After a moment, it fizzled into the formation of words.

“R. C. P., this is Beta 3. Do not return to base, I repeat, do not return to base.” Logan furrowed his brows. 

“Beta 3, what is happening at base?”

“Base compromised. Cannot explain further. Over.” The connection fizzled out. Roman turned off the radio frequency.

“Beta 3?” Logan asked. “That means their main comms are down. That can’t be good.”

——

_Oh, please, not right now. I can’t do this right now,_ Virgil thought, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing in as one of his therapists had told him, a long time ago: the old in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. After a couple of minutes, it seemed to at least put the attack at bay. Enough to take a 5-minute shower, which was decidedly good enough for him. 

_Don’t look at it don’t look at it don’t look at it—_

He dried off and got dressed as quickly as possible. 

Logan and Roman both turned to watch as he exited the bathroom, but Roman didn’t come to help him this time. Virgil wasn’t sure why he felt a little disappointed. However, he shoved this feeling aside when he saw how shaken Roman looked. 

“Uh, Roman? You okay there, man?” He said slowly. Roman breathed in slowly before responding.

“Logan and I have been comparing notes. It seems this mission isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.” 

“Well, yeah, that was kinda implied with the whole kidnapping thing,” Virgil said. “What changed?”

“I radioed in to the headquarters, but the main comms are down. The agent who did answer told me not to return to base. Which means…COTECH might have gotten the upper hand somehow. To make matters worse, Logan believes that Remus and the other agent might have let us go.”

“They broke my ankle, you call that letting us go?” 

“But they also marked you so that they could find you again,” Logan added calmly. “If you think about it, the… _tag_ could be used to identify a body. They don’t necessarily need you alive.”

Virgil blinked rapidly, trying to get his vision to focus. The ringing in his ears only added to his dizziness.

_They don’t necessarily need you alive._

His body pulsed with heat in quick flashes, from the chest out to the shoulders and arms. The rapid change in temperature caused sweat to form on his forehead. _Is someone talking to me? I can’t tell. I can’t breathe…_ No air seemed to be coming into Virgil’s lungs when he tried breathing. 

_They don’t need you alive._

He thought he saw shapes coming towards him, but he couldn’t tell. Everything was too blurry. 

_They don’t need you alive._

_They don't need you alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does it always happen to Virgil? That's a good question.


	6. Odyssey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend arrives. So does COTECH. 
> 
> Roman realizes he's hopelessly in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again.
> 
> Update took a while because this chapter is LONG. Prepare yourselves.
> 
> Warnings: mild cursing towards the end of the chapter.

“Virgil!” Roman shouted. Logan crossed the room quickly and knelt down at his side, Roman at his heels. “Logan, what do we do?”

“He…he passed out. There’s nothing we can do right now except get him some water and put him somewhere comfortable for when he wakes up.” Roman nodded. 

“I’ll put him on the couch. You grab the water.”

“Agreed,” Logan said, appearing relieved that he was not tasked with carrying the man. Roman lifted Virgil as gently as possible, watching his breathing all the while. It seemed to be returning to normal, which relieved the spy. His hand lingered on the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie after he had set him on the couch, and Roman began to wonder if he should pull it up to check for a scar like the one Logan and him had discussed. After a pause, he decided against it, letting go of the sleeve and allowing his eyes to wander towards Virgil’s face. 

Roman admired the softness of Virgil’s features when his face finally relaxed. How the purple-tipped bangs created a sort of veil over his eyes. Before he could really take it in, though, Logan returned with a bottle of water. 

“Keep an eye on him, will you? I have other matters to attend to,” Logan said, handing him the bottle.

_Why ask if you already know I will, Logan?_ Roman thought to himself, eyes downcast. He placed himself in the loveseat next to the couch. After a moment of hesitation, he began to reflect upon last night’s conversation. 

_"It’s not about what you said. It’s about what you didn’t say."_

_Logan, why do you have to be so elusive? Why can’t you just explain what I’m feeling? I’m sure you know better than I do._ He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back on the loveseat. 

_What_ am _I feeling? That’s the million dollar question._

_The answer should be ‘nothing.’ I’ve barely known him for a day!_

_Except that’s not it, is it? My stupid brain had the audacity to call him ‘beautiful’ just last night. And he…he_ is _beautiful. It took me a thousand pictures and one face to realize it, but that’s what it is._

_But his profile…said he was straight. So he would never be with me. Even if by some miracle he wasn’t, I can’t risk what happened to Adam._

Even just thinking the name, Roman’s breath caught in his throat. 

_No. No. Don’t think about him…you can’t think about him right now._ He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the offending face out of his mind. With some difficulty, he was able to refocus. 

_Virgil wouldn’t be safe. If he ever loved me, he would be putting himself in danger._

_Jeez, that sounds so edgy. I’d almost match Virgil’s whole aesthetic with that comment,_ Roman giggled halfheartedly to himself, and then his face slowly fell.

_Oh._

_Oh._

_That’s what it is._

Roman looked at Virgil, who was still silent and breathing softly. 

It was…everything. 

It was how gentle his features really were when he was asleep. It was the crossbow shape of the lip and the purple tinge of the hair. It was the way Virgil wore his ripped jeans and patched hoodie without caring about other people’s opinions. His sense of self. Roman felt like he belonged…like he didn’t need to act. Like Virgil wouldn’t care how he presented himself. 

That was how he loved him.

Was it possible to feel that, right from the start? 

——

Virgil’s eyes fluttered open. A tight feeling clung to his chest. He scrunched his brows, trying to recall what had happened. _Oh yeah. Panic attack. Great._ He breathed in to try to expel the feeling in his chest, but stopped when he smelled something familiar. 

_Is that…Roman’s cologne?_ Virgil’s face heated up as he took in the smell. _Wait, where does that put me…?_ He sat up from— _oh, it’s the couch. Was this where Roman was sleeping?—_ and saw the man himself: sitting with his legs crossed on the loveseat, facing towards the window. After Virgil shuffled and sat up, Roman snapped out of whatever daze he had been in. 

“Virgil! How are you feeling?”

“Still gay,” He mumbled, barley audible. Roman furrowed his brows. 

“What?”

“I said ‘okay.’” 

“Oh. Right. I, uh, have some water for you. Logan told me you need to drink water after a panic attack,” Roman said, handing over the bottled water. 

_Wait, is that…do I see a hint of blush? On_ Princey _? No, it can’t be._ Virgil accepted the water, quickly unscrewed the cap, and downed the water to try to wash out the dryness in his throat. 

_It was your imagination. The dude’s probably straight anyway._

“How long was I out?” Virgil said, sighing. 

“Only a couple of minutes.” Roman’s gaze drifted back to the window. Virgil mused that he was anxious to get on the move, and that’s why he kept staring out the window. But it did give Virgil an excellent view of Roman’s cheekbones… 

“That’s good. I once passed out during a panic attack, and my friend Patton nearly took me to the hospital because I didn’t wake up for, like…three hours.”

“Really?” Roman asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Completely unrelated to the attack, though. I hadn’t slept in like, 52 hours and I just needed some rest.”

“How…how can you say that so calmly? You didn’t sleep for _52 hours??_ How often does this happen?” 

“Uh, every couple of weeks, I guess. I’m just not great at that whole sleep thing.” Roman gaped at the man for a few seconds before responding. 

“You—you need to sleep.”

“Yeah, that does seem like something a normal person would do,” Virgil shrugged, a small smirk forming. Roman chuckled, but slowly his smile fell. 

“Virgil?”

“‘Sup?” He said, leaning back on the couch. Roman observed the man, noticing how he was attempting to look calm and casual despite his apparent unease. _Most likely caused by the panic attack,_ Roman thought.

“I’m really sorry you had to get dragged into this.” Virgil looked confused. 

“Isn’t that supposed to be your job, though?” 

“Well, yeah, but…this didn’t go as planned. None of _that_ ,” Roman gestured towards Virgil’s leg, “Was supposed to happen. I should have prepared for the possibility of _sedative gas_ when I was creating my extraction plan.”

“Hey, man. It’s not always going to go as planned. It’s unrealistic to think that. And unfair to yourself,” Virgil took another sip of his water to avoid awkward eye contact. Roman sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair. 

“It’s my fault that your leg is the way it is. I’ve…I might have changed your life forever.” Virgil studied the spy. 

“I’m cool with it,” He shrugged. Roman reddened, but before he had any time to react, a loud knock came from the door. Roman’s eyes moved from Virgil to the kitchen, where he knew Logan kept a loaded weapon at all times. 

“Stay where you are, Virgil. I’ll take care of this.”

“I—I can’t move anyways…” Virgil pointed to his leg, exasperated, as Roman crossed the room to the kitchen. He grabbed the gun from the miscellaneous drawer in the kitchen and stalked towards the door, peering through the peephole for a second before slowly opening the door. 

“Hi!” A cheery voice practically shouted back at Roman. It was attached to a man with a big smile and an even bigger container full of… _cookies?_

“Uh, hello. Who…are you?”

  
  
“I’m Patton! Who are you?” He said, booping a startled Roman on the nose. Logan suddenly emerged from his room, one eyebrow raised. 

“Patton?” He and Virgil said in unison. They both looked at each other for a moment before Logan crossed the living room to greet the man in the doorway. 

“Patton, I…I wasn’t expecting you. Come in,” He pulled Roman aside by his arm, stealthily removing the weapon from his hands and placing it behind the door. Patton didn’t seem to notice. He bounded right in to the house without waiting another second.

“Hey Logan! I brought you some cookies. I know you like them—even though you’ll never admit it to me—but I was stress baking a ton last night and so I figured you could use some. Anyways—Oh, hi, Virgil—anyways, I’ve been looking for my friend, he hasn’t come home and he has anti anxiety medication that he needs to…” Logan’s eyebrow raised once more as he watched Patton trail off, suddenly making the connections. The cookie-bearing man blinked slowly. “Oh. You seem to have found him.” 

“You know Logan?” Virgil said slowly.

“ _You_ know Logan? Is this where you’ve been, Virgil? Why didn’t you tell me? You promised you’d call if you were ever going out for the night! If I had known you were with Logan I wouldn’t have _stress baked three batches of cookies!_ ” 

“Uh…” Virgil shrunk back into the couch, a guilty look on his face. “Sorry.” Patton’s face suddenly softened.

“It’s…it’s okay, Virgil. But I _do_ worry, you know. Here, I brought your anti anxiety meds,” he said, holding out a small plastic bag with the medication. Virgil took it gingerly. 

“In all honesty, Patton, this whole endeavor is my fault,” Logan said, straightening his tie. “Virgil and I only met recently, and completely by accident. He was looking for his phone, as he had lost it. He asked for Roman’s and my help—Roman is a friend from work—and we agreed. However, in the process of retracing Virgil’s steps, he tripped on the stairs and… _sprained_ his ankle. I agreed to let him stay at my house until we could get better medical assistance. He was actually about to use my phone to call you when you arrived. We think someone stole his phone.” Virgil was surprised at how easy it seemed to be for Logan to lie, but said nothing.

“Oh dear! Well, I’m happy Virgil was with _you_ and not some stranger! And the phone thing does make sense.”

“What do you mean, Patton?” Roman asked, approaching the man. 

“Well, when I called Virgil to see where he was this morning, a weird voice picked up on the other end and, uh, said some scary things. I though it was just Virgil being silly and so I didn’t take it too seriously, but the fact that the person on the phone wouldn’t tell me where you went still scared me.”

“What scary things? What did the voice sound like?” Roman made eye contact with Logan, his face darkening. 

“Well, the voice was kinda scratchy and almost…I don’t know, snake-like? And they told me Virgil wasn’t available at first. Then I was like ‘ha-ha, Virgil, very funny. Come back home soon,’ and then told them I was going to Logan’s to drop off some cookies and he just kinda laughed and said ‘I’ll see you and Virgil soon.’ I thought it was just Virgil being, well, Virgil, though. Does that help?”

“They traced the call,” Logan said. He turned on his heel and grabbed the gun hidden behind the door. Roman followed. 

“Where’s the spare?” He asked briskly.

“Laundry room, over there.”

“Ammo?”

“Same place.”

“Guys? What’s going on? What did I do?” Patton asked, wringing his hands. 

“Patton, I hate to have to tell you this now, but,” Logan cocked the gun in his hands, “I am a spy. As is Roman. I was hoping you wouldn’t have to find out about all this, but it appears we’ve got some agents of malicious intent who are headed our direction. And soon. Answer me this: When did you call Virgil?”

“About half an hour ago. Logan, you’re a _spy?_ And you never thought to tell me?” Patton said, approaching him by the doorway. Logan looked down to the floor. 

“I couldn’t,” he said softly. 

“I thought you were my friend,” Patton whispered back, only a few inches away now. Logan’s eyes flicked back up desperately, searching Patton’s face for any sign that he was messing around.

“THEY’RE HERE!” Virgil yelled, struggling to get up from the couch. A fresh flash of pain shot through his leg, and he stumbled as he moved behind the couch and towards the others. Roman ran back from the laundry room, halfway through loading his weapon, to see a horde of COTECH agents standing in the street in front of Logan’s house. His stomach dropped as he imagined what they might be intending to do. 

Before he could reach Virgil, the window shattered into tiny pieces, and gunfire rained into Logan’s home. 

Roman thought he heard the words “Get down!” being shouted by someone, but he wasn’t sure. the blood rushing to his ears made it hard to tell. Soon, though, he recovered from the initial shock and crawled across the floor towards Virgil, keeping his breathing steady. 

He’d been trained for this sort of thing. But Virgil had not. 

At the very least, the man had fallen on the ground and was shielded by the couch. But the shelter wouldn’t last long: Roman could hear the sound of gunfire getting closer. 

_How the hell am I supposed to get Virgil out of here?  
_

_Shit._

_Okay, wait…the angle of the light from the window stops just over there…meaning if I can crawl and drag Virgil over there, we can get to the rooms that connect to the back of the house…yes, we can probably get to the laundry room from there._

_We can probably reach the bunker from there._

Roman prepped himself to run, grabbing Virgil’s arms before speeding across the light area of the room. The bullets were whizzing by less frequently now. _They’re close_. 

As soon as Virgil was fully dragged into the shadows—which Roman knew he’d get yelled at for later—Roman lifted him into his arms and followed the dark hallway to the laundry room in the back of the house. 

_Chances are, we’re surrounded. I only hope Logan and Patton can get out in time._ He yanked back the washing machine to reveal a console on the back wall. There was a single lever and a flat blue panel on it. Roman pressed his hand to the panel and it glowed to life. After a moment, it beeped and Roman pulled the lever down, sure to wipe the oils of his hand off the screen. A door that shouldn’t have been in the wall opened up in front of them, and Roman hauled the still-shaken Virgil into the room—elevator?—with him. Before the door could close, he noticed a flick of movement down the hallway.

“Roman! Wait!” Logan called, running with Patton towards the laundry room. Roman grabbed the door and let them enter. Logan dragged the washing machine back into place behind them. The door snapped shut as soon as Roman let go. 

“You made it,” Virgil rasped. 

“Are you okay, kiddo?” Patton asked, a worried expression on his face. 

“Chipper,” Virgil said through gritted teeth. The small space shuddered, and Virgil’s head snapped up. “What’s that?”

“That would be the elevator moving.”

“Elevator?”

“Yes. It leads to a bunker. With a couple of underground routes we’re not supposed to show to the public.” Virgil seemed to perk up. 

“I knew it,” He whispered. 

“Sorry?”

“I’ve…” He paused to breathe in. “I’ve been theorizing on this for _years_. Do you even _know_ how many conspiracy theories there are about the secret underground tunnels underneath the city?”

“Yes, actually,” Logan muttered. “I was assigned to monitor the conspiracy theories about the tunnels for a month. Actually, most RIIS agents get assigned to do it at some point or another.”

“It’s kind of like getting assigned trash duty at work. Everyone who’s had to do it would rather be doing something else,” Roman added. Virgil sent a withering glare in his direction. Which must have been hard, considering he was struggling to even stand. 

“You got a problem with conspiracy theorists?” Virgil said, the corner of his upper lip raised up. _That’s actually kind of hot—no, Roman, stop._

“N—no, they’re, uh. They’re just _really_ hard to keep track of, that’s all. Yeah.”

“Damn right they are.” Virgil nodded. Logan raised an eyebrow in Roman’s direction. 

The elevator jerked to a stop. As the door opened, Virgil breathed in deeply. “It’s _beautiful_ ,” He said, earning him raised eyebrows from everyone. Not that Virgil cared. Instead, he just tried to walk forward so he could take in the area in full. Roman quickly stepped in to help after seeing the shorter man struggle. 

The so-called bunker was a shadowy and expansive room, not exactly the conventional definition of “beautiful.” Virgil could see tunnels leading in four directions, and he yearned to explore and record all of them. However, Roman held fast and wouldn’t let him. He frowned, cursing his broken ankle and everything that had led up to it. _Well, almost everything. Minus one (1) very, very, attractive individual who shall not be named_ …

Logan and Patton followed to get out of the elevator, and the doors closed behind them. Logan tugged his sleeve back to reveal a wristwatch. It looked normal enough, like Roman’s had, but a few taps on the screen caused a map to appear of the expansive tunnel systems. Roman moved closer to get a better look. 

“Alright,” Logan said, looking up at the group. “The first priority is getting to a hospital. There’s a specialized wing at South Cameron Hospital for RIIS agents. It is fairly close to where we are now. According to the map, we need to go down this corridor.” He pointed to their right. “Afterwards, the tunnel system keeps going and connects to a subway station via a maintenance door. We need to get Virgil away from here as soon as possible. We can decide the details on the way.”

“I don’t understand. Why Virgil?” Patton asked. 

“I will explain later. As soon as we are safe, I promise. Right now, treating Virgil’s injuries is the most important problem,” Logan said, as gently as he could muster. 

“We need to move,” Roman tilted his head in the direction of the tunnel. 

Before them, a long journey awaited.

One that would not leave them quite the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, and as always, thank you for your kudos and comments!! :)


	7. Recoup and Regroup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil finally gets the medical attention he needs. And the ch--well, you'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! :D Thanks for the comments and kudos!!
> 
> Warnings: some language.

Hotels were decided on as the group ventured down the tunnels. Eventually, for the sake of both efficiency and safety, the Fairview Hotel was chosen. It was quite a long distance away, but it would provide the shelter they needed. As they approached the hospital, the discussion over transportation began. Obviously, they couldn’t walk, for there was no technology that could make Virgil’s ankle suited for that long of a trek. Roman advocated for use of a subway, and Logan accepted after remembering he could remotely shut down the security cameras without creating much of a disturbance. 

Patton let all these things fly over his head, opting instead to steal glances at Virgil when he could. His family—practically—was priority right now. Not spies. Not… _not Logan_ , he thought with a pang of guilt. Or sadness. Or something else. 

“Here we are,” Logan said, finally breaking Patton out of his thoughts. They had reached a large metal door that was completely unmarked, minus a small keypad, and looked more like a maintenance tunnel than anything else. Logan approached the keypad and began typing a pattern of numerical code, looking off his watch as he went. The door clanked open, revealing a fairly large white room with a few padded beds, surgery tables, and medical equipment. The room was almost devoid of people, save one woman on a hospital bed in the corner of the room and a nurse who was talking with her. The nurse glanced up when the four entered and excused herself from the conversation. 

“Identification?” She asked, prompting Roman and Logan to show her their watches. She tapped the screen a few times before nodding. “What can I do for you?”

“This is Virgil. He’s not an agent, but he’s my charge,” Roman said. “His ankle was broken by a COTECH agent and his leg was…well, take a look for yourself.” Patton’s eyes widened and he looked to Logan. The nurse helped Virgil and Roman to a nearby bed, but Logan and Patton stayed behind. 

“What did Roman mean when he was talking about Virgil’s leg? He said the ankle was broken, what else?” Logan took in a shaky breath, considering a response that wouldn’t get him killed.

“A notoriously violent agent from COTECH cut the agency’s name into his leg.” Patton stared at Logan mutely before moving to see Virgil’s leg for himself. Logan grabbed his wrist.

“Patton, don’t,” Logan warned. “Please, you won’t want to see this.” Patton looked at Logan with resolve.

“I need to see this,” he said with finality. Logan hesitated before letting go of the man’s sleeve. 

The spy had to count every beat of his heart as Patton crossed the room.

As he moved around the table. 

As he took in the sight of Virgil’s leg. 

As Roman gently pulled him away.

  
  
As he was brought back to Logan. 

He fell into a surprised Logan’s arms and broke into sobs, Logan slowly and mechanically wrapping himself around the man. Roman nodded at him and crossed the room to stay with Virgil. Logan led Patton to a waiting room next door so he could sort himself out. 

“This is my fault,” Patton whimpered. “I should have kept him from going to work.”

“Falsehood. There was _nothing_ you could have done to stop this. The blame lies at the feet of Remus, the one who _actually hurt him_ ,” Logan stressed. 

“But Virgil—”

“Virgil will be fine. From what I have seen, he’s a very resilient man. Plus, at this facility we have access to advanced medical care and technology. He will live, and he will heal. He has all of us to protect him and make sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s all we can do, Patton.” Logan put a gentle hand on Patton’s back as his sobbing slowly ebbed. 

“But Virgil might not forgive me for not being there for him. After he got to your house.”

“Virgil did not think for one second that this was your fault. In any way. You can ask him yourself, once he’s done getting treated.” 

“I—“

“You’re fine, Pat.” Logan awkwardly moved closer to Patton on the couch, and the man responded by leaning in onto Logan’s shoulder. The breath caught in his throat. _Uh-oh. Feelings._

“We have a lot we need to talk about,” Patton sighed. 

“Yes.”

“But not right now.” Logan looked down at the man on his shoulder.

“As you wish.”

——

Roman stood by Virgil’s bed as the nurse continued to clean the injury. He hadn’t moved in exactly two minutes. He didn’t think Virgil had registered that they were now holding hands, but he wasn’t about to stop it. 

Just two minutes ago, Roman had returned from delivering Patton to Logan, and the nurse began examining Virgil’s ankle. Which meant: “Does it hurt when I do this?” in every region of the ankle. Needless to say, it had to have been quite the painful experience. At one point, the pain seemed to be so intense that Virgil had cried out and his hand latched on to the nearest object. Which just happened to be Roman’s hand. 

Now, Roman wasn’t really sure what to do about that. To say the least. If he moved his hand, they would both be aware that they had been holding hands. Virgil would probably hiss at him again. But if he did nothing, then Virgil would eventually wonder why he been holding his hand. And Roman's would start to sweat. And Virgil would probably think that Roman’s a creep, which was an equally displeasing thought.

He kind of liked the idea of holding Virgil’s hand. But he didn’t want to be a creep. 

So he loosened his hand from Virgil’s just before the nursed touched his ankle again. If the other man noticed, he didn’t say anything. That was good at least. 

“Alright, so I’ve determined what type of ankle injury it is. And fortunately, it isn’t as bad as it _could_ have been. RIIS actually has some equipment designed for this type of injury. Virgil, you will have to sign some paperwork that swears you to secrecy about any RIIS tech you’ve seen here, and then I can administer the equipment.”

“Okay,” He said slowly, and the nurse produced paperwork and a pen. After a minute, the paperwork was signed and she returned with a strange brace and some sort of oxygen tank. “Uh, what is that thingy?” 

“This is a sedative similar to the one known as laughing gas. The chemists with RIIS developed it so the effects of the laughing gas last longer than three minutes. Plenty of time to put on the brace without risking pain.” Virgil examined it a moment longer before nodding.

“So I’ll just be loopy for a few minutes?”

“About ten to fifteen, yes. The effects will be a bit stronger than normal laughing gas, so you might feel…fuzzy, in terms of memory.” Virgil nodded.

“Okay. Go ahead.” The nurse put a mask on Virgil for a minute and ran through the standard breathing procedure. She moved down to the ankle area and began attaching the slim brace.

Virgil started giggling. _Wait, is he…is he laughing at me?_

“You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” Roman said with a smirk. “What? Do I look funny to you?” Virgil giggled a little more. Roman faked a scoff. “How _dare_ you insult my _beauty!_ ” 

He had to admit, Virgil looked really cute when he giggled. His cheeks were dusted a rosy color and his nose was scrunched up in a way that made Roman want to boop it. For some reason.

The nurse finished the brace soon after. It fit sleekly onto Virgil’s ankle and seemed to put him in an adequate position to get the ankle set. The nurse recommended that Roman pull up a chair and keep Virgil company, causing the latter man to burst into laughter. Roman did as he was told, and soon he found himself conversing with a loopy Virgil. At one point, Virgil’s laughter stopped suddenly and he went into a trance-like silence, fixated on Roman. 

“What, do I have something on my face?” 

“Cheek. Cheekbones,” Virgil giggled, and reached out a hand to Roman’s face. Roman stilled, watching the hand as it got closer. Virgil hesitated a moment, then lightly ran his fingers across Roman’s left cheekbone. 

Roman went beet red and opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. 

“You have pretty cheekbones,” Virgil mumbled, transfixed. 

“You…” Roman blinked for a moment, before shaking his head. He gently removed Virgil’s hand. “You’re not yourself right now. You’ll regret this as soon as the drug wears off,” He smiled sadly. Virgil stared back at Roman, appearing almost betrayed. 

After a moment, Roman had to leave to avoid that stare. There had to be some explaination for why it broke him apart. 

He opted instead to pace around the room. Logan was comforting Patton in the other room, the nurse was assisting the only other patient in the hospital area, and if he returned to Virgil’s side, he might feel the guilt he felt before. That left him with very little space to pace freely. But pace he did—until he finally heard a voice say, “Roman? I think the stuff wore off.” 

Roman swiveled around on his heel to find Virgil blinking rapidly. _Oh no. Oh no. This is not going to be fun._

“Dude, that stuff really hits you. Everything from the past fifteen minutes is blurry.” _Thank God it is._

“Virgil…it’s been two hours,” Roman said. Virgil’s eyes widened.

“WHAT?” He blurted, suddenly rushing to get up and get moving. “TWO _HOURS?_ ” 

After a few minutes of watching the terrified Virgil process the information, Roman released a snicker. 

“What, Princey? Why aren’t you freaking out right now?”

“Uh, Virgil? It was a joke. It’s only been, like, twenty minutes,” Roman said through giggles. Virgil sent him another death glare. 

“I’m going to strangle you, Romano.” Roman made an offended gasp. 

“How _dare_ you call me—“

“Wow, Virgil, that name was really _romano_ cheesy! Get it?” Patton said as he burst into the room. Virgil huffed, a small smirk appearing on his face. 

“Please don’t let that nickname stick,” Roman sighed, face in his hands. 

“How is your ankle doing, Virgil?” Logan asked. They all glanced down at the sleek black brace that covered the afflicted area. A white bandage covered everything else, from the ankle to the knee. 

“I haven’t tried the brace thingy yet. Let’s see,” Virgil said, moving to hop of the bed. He was stopped by the nurse. 

“Wait, wait. Our technology may be good, but you’re still not ready to walk yet. Here, I have these crutches for you until it is healed.” Virgil sighed, hating the lack of independence he still had. 

“And how long will that be?” 

“About five weeks. With our tech, we sheer off a week on the bone healing time. If you can, you’ll have to check back here in three weeks. Hopefully the alpha channels will be back up by then, but with this raid, I’m not so sure.”

“Raid?” Logan said, stepping forward. “We knew about the alpha channels being down, but not the raid.”

“You didn’t hear? COTECH raided the RIIS tower. Seemed like they were looking for an extraction team that was supposed to be reporting in then. Lucky for the agent, they didn’t.” Roman and Logan looked at each other. 

“Yes. Lucky indeed,” Logan said. “Thank you for your help, miss…”

“Call me Valerie,” The nurse smiled, shaking Logan’s hand. 

“Valerie. Nice meeting you,” Roman said as Virgil set himself up on the crutches. 

Valerie nodded to the four as they made their way out to the tunnels. She smiled and returned to the woman in the bed after the door closed. 

“How are you feeling, miss?” 

“Alright. I don’t know how I feel about life without sight, though. It’s a scary prospect.”

“I know it can be hard, but I have faith in you.” Valerie said a with a small smile. 

“That was one hell of a raid, though. Were those people just here…were they the people you thought they were?”

“Yes, they were.”

“Damn. So me posing as that extraction agent worked, then. At least I put on a good show.”

“You did fantastic. I’m sure your sacrifice won’t be forgotten,” Valerie said, sitting down and holding her hand out to the blind woman for consolation. “And now, we wait.”

——

“How many rooms can we get in order to stay within budget regulations?” Roman asked. 

“Two. One per agent. But we can get rooms with two beds, I believe. There should be some rooms on the fifth floor that are RIIS equipped.”

“RIIS equipped?” Virgil said, huffing as he got used to the crutches. 

“It means there’s an add-on room that has weapons and other spy equipment in it. Also a type of mini-bunker,” Roman said with a grin. He always admired those hotel rooms.

“Wait, seriously? That’s so cool! When we get there, you have to show me. Whoever I’m staying with.”

“Roman will stay with you. He still has a responsibility to protect his charge.” 

Virgil’s stomach simultaneously dropped and soared. He wasn’t really sure what to make of the chance of seeing Roman shirtless again. 

“Alright. We’re at the maintenance entrance to the subway. Should be a fifteen minute trip from there to the hotel,” Logan said, stopping to fiddle with some of the dials on his watch. After a minute, he looked up again. “Subway is clear. Cameras are down. Let’s go,” He said, opening the door to a slightly populated train system. 

The ride to Fairview Hotel was uneventful, and Virgil found himself zoning out after only a couple of minutes. Even the walk to the hotel was blurry in his memory. He was busy daydreaming—not about anything specific, just little thoughts and ideas. He was happy that he had taken the anti-anxiety medication Patton gave him this morning, because the crowded subway when the group got off would have been an extremely stressful experience if he hadn’t. At least this was just a minor inconvenience. 

When they got to Fairview Hotel, Logan shut down the cameras and took care of the hotel booking. Two rooms, next to each other, RIIS-equipped. Fifth floor. 

The rooms were actually quite beautiful. There was a fantastic view of the city from the fifth floor, and a comfortable couch chair in the corner of the room that Virgil could already see himself curling onto. The two beds were spacious and soft, and across from them, there was a flat screen television set. Roman quickly turned it to the news channel as Virgil collapsed onto the nearest bed.

“You good there?” Roman said with a laugh as he looked back at Virgil. He looked like a starfish, spread across the fluffy bed with his face pressed into the sheets. 

“Mmhmm. Comfy,” Virgil said, his voice muffled by the sheets. 

“That’s good to hear.” Roman smiled. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Roman approached, and Virgil turned over lazily on the bed so he could see who was there. 

He opened the door to a grinning Patton. “Hey Roman! How’s the room?”

“Very nice. Virgil’s enjoying the bed,” He said, pointing to Virgil, who was still spread out on his bed. Patton nodded. 

“Logan wants you to know that we’re having a meeting in his room in fifteen minutes to go over a game plan.” 

“Alright. Thank you, Patton,” Roman said, nodding as he closed the door. “Virge, you hear that?” Virgil’s face heated up at the nickname, and he turned away from Roman. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”


	8. Little Talks and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A planning session doesn't go as planned, and sleeping doesn't quite help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Some cursing throughout.  
> Scary/slightly violent images: Stop reading at "'According to Logan,'" start at "'He tried to...'".

Logan and Patton were quietly discussing various ideas when Roman and Virgil arrived. Logan had found a pad of paper and a pen (it seemed to be his superpower at this point) and had written out some already-forming ideas. 

“Alright, Logan. What do you have for us?” Roman announced as he strode forward. 

“Not…as much as I would have liked. We’re missing a lot of information about the COTECH facilities, who infiltrated our main tower, and the chip with all of our identification,” Logan said, stealing a glance at Virgil’s arm. “We have no idea what they might be planning.”

“But we do have Virgil, who has the chip,” Roman said, shrugging. 

“Yes, but unless the chip has all the details of their plan, it won’t help. Plus, we don’t even know where it’s located on his body.” 

“Yeah, I have no idea, man,” Virgil added, looking to Roman. Frustrated, the spy plopped himself down in front of the coffee table where Logan and Patton had their plans laid out. Virgil followed, eager to get the weight off his broken ankle. 

“Even so. Virgil is an important piece of this puzzle. COTECH apparently raided our tower _in search_ of us,” Roman said, leaning back.

“But their goal is larger than that. Why would they disable out alpha comms?” 

“Maybe they didn’t know about the beta, gamma, and delta channels?”

“Unlikely. They should have at least known about the betas, if they managed to disable alpha comms. That leaves us with this: What would they gain, or what would _we_ lose, from disabling only the main communication systems?” Logan squinted down at his paper as he asked the question, scribbling something down. 

“Uh. Well, the main comms are easier to communicate and pass information through. Beta ones are harder to get to in general, both because the lines take longer to tap into and since they are operated from remote safe houses and actual homes of agents. They’d have to track down each individual operator in order to shut down beta channels.” 

“They could, if they had the chip,” Virgil said. “What if they intended to both find me and shut down the communication systems?”

“But again, to what end? RIIS has plenty of ways to communicate, it doesn’t seem like the most ideal option.” 

“They could be trying to isolate us,” Roman said. “Or, to listen in to our comms. The alpha channels are really difficult to tap into, but if a COTECH agent were to be operating a RIIS beta radio station, they could get a lot of information on us.” 

“Only if we use our actual identities. Again, unlikely that they would go to that effort.”

“It _is_ likely! You’ve seen the lengths they’ve gone to to get Virgil’s chip.” 

“All I’m saying is that I don’t think we have enough information. We need to get more,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses. 

“What do you mean?” Patton asked. 

“Watch the news tonight, for one. We’ll also have to do something I’m not excited about.”

“What?” Roman crossed his arms, not liking Logan’s tone of voice.

“We’ll have to go to the tower and see it for ourselves.” 

“Uh, no way. You’ve seen my ankle. And do you think it would be a good idea for you two to _leave_ me here? Like you said, we have _no idea_ what COTECH knows,” Virgil stressed. 

The room burst into debate. Patton sat back and listened as the group argued, not really sure how he could help. 

“They could know where we are living right now!”

“Impossible. We took many precautions to avoid it.”

“ _Not_ impossible, Logan! There are a ton of things we could have missed! Look, I’m shooting straight here. _Even though_ I’m gay,” Virgil added as an afterthought.

The argument came to a halt, and Logan and Roman both looked at him. Virgil scratched the back of his head, surprised that they had both stopped talking. Even more surprised that he had actually _said that out loud oh shit what are they going to say?_

“You’re gay?” Roman blurted. Virgil scrunched his eyebrows. 

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t it kind of obvious?”

“Your target profile said you were straight, though…” 

“Well, they got it wrong then. I’m pretty gay.” Roman stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“Cool,” he said, voice cracking. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Are you, like…cool with that? Or are you uncomfortable with gay people…?” He asked, not sure he wanted an answer to that question. Roman’s mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour. At this point he was just praying his face wasn’t completely red. 

“N—no, yeah, I am. Cool with gay people. Yeah.” Logan huffed. 

“Trust me, Virgil,” Logan said. “Roman’s just trying to process how happy he is to find another one of our people. He’s what one might call a…” Logan pulled out a stack of… _index cards?_ “Ah, yes. A ‘Raging Homosexual,’ as you will.” 

“ _LOGAN!”_ Roman said, his face a shade redder than before. Logan smirked, and Virgil collapsed into laughter. 

“You use _vocabulary cards_ for slang?” He said in between cackles.

“Yes. Roman gave them to me.” 

“You _betrayed_ me, Logan!” Roman cried, causing Virgil to snicker again. 

“Perhaps. Was it worth it? Certainly.” 

“FISH BAIT!” Patton exclaimed suddenly. Virgil winced at the sudden outburst.

“I’m sorry, what?” Roman said, furrowing his brows. 

“The alpha comms were like _fish bait_! They…they broke the communication system in order to lure us—or just Roman and Virgil—to the tower to find out how! They probably don’t even care about the backup channels. They just want someone to show up there.”

“So they can get Virgil, or at least find out where he is. No matter who we took to the tower, they’d be able to get something out of us. They must have defenses set up, and surveillance cameras all over the perimeter there. The nurse, Valerie, said it was a raid. They take our main base, we’re forced to go there in order to get more information. Patton, that was—that was…adequate,” Logan said, feigning disinterest.

“Okay, but how does that help us? We can’t go there now, knowing it’s a trap,” Roman argued. 

“Yes, we can. Knowing it’s a trap means we’ll be prepared.”

“But what about what Patton said? If one of us gets caught, we’re all screwed. They’ll torture the information out of you,” Virgil said, crossing his arms. “And If Roman and Logan go, then there’ll be no one left to protect us that’s actually equipped for that kind of thing. Like I said before, they could know we’re here already.” 

“Okay, then we’ll hide you and Patton in the tunnels, where COTECH can’t find you. If we plan this mission right, it will be an in-and-out job. We’ll find the information they’re holding from us and get out.”

“But they might not _be_ holding anything from us. We have Virgil, therefore _we_ have the upper hand.” 

“How can you be sure?” Logan said, causing silence to fall over the group. After a moment, he resumed. “Like I said, we don’t have enough information to make a next move. For now, we should get some rest. Monitor the news channels in your room for anything out of the ordinary. I will as well, and I’ll work on the RIIS tower schematics. So we’re prepared in case an infiltration is needed.” 

After a moment, Roman moved to stand. “All right. I suppose it is for the best that we get some sleep. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

“As will I,” Logan said with a curt nod. Virgil stood up and wobbled over to his crutches with the help of Patton. 

“Goodnight, Pat.”

“‘Night, Virgil! Sleep well,” Patton smiled, but his worry wasn’t completely concealed by the grin. 

“Good night, Logan, Patton,” Roman said while opening the door for Virgil. The two drifted back to their room after the chorus of “good nights,” unsure of what to say to each other. It was going to be an interesting night, to say the least. 

——

The drabble of the television stayed on in Roman and Virgil’s room long after Patton and Logan had fallen asleep. It seemed neither of the two wanted to face what their dreams might bring to them—or what pain would return with it. It was well past eleven (which was late by Patton and Logan’s standards) when Virgil decided to call it a night. He was exhausted from the workout that was walking on crutches. Plus, the laughing gas seemed to have after-effects that made him feel sleepy. 

The RIIS-equipped rooms provided Virgil and Roman with extra clothing (along with plenty of weaponry, which Virgil mostly averted his eyes from), hidden in a secret vault behind the mirror. There was mostly one-size-fits-all t-shirts, pants, and tank tops. Just basic essentials to blend in with any crowd. Roman selected a white tank top and red athletic shorts for his nightclothes, for they seemed the most comfortable. Virgil, on the other hand, chose a black t-shirt and dark pants, with the simple explanation of: “It’s the edgiest outfit in the place.”

Once Virgil went to sleep, there was nothing keeping Roman awake. He had to turn off the television so there wasn’t any distracting noise, which limited what he could do. 

So, it finally became time to face his demons once again.

\--

Only an hour in—midnight—and Roman awoke in a cold sweat. 

It was _him_ again. _His_ face was all Roman could see in his nightmares. One second, it was warm and inviting…the next, it was how he had seen the man last. 

That was something Roman could never unsee. 

He lost his will to sleep, instead opting to stand in the window. The city was still alive at night, as was expected. It was calming in a way, to see the cars go by, and to see the soft glow of the city lights reassuring him that _life will go on_. 

They helped him to forget.

His eyes began to sting, so he closed them, taking in the moment of relief that it caused. This time, he saw another face. 

Virgil. 

That face that could have vexed him more than Adam had. That face that was still right there. Still real. Breathing, just nearby. 

But there still wasn’t a chance. _There couldn’t be…_

“You okay there, Princey?” A familiar voice asked, snapping the spy out of his musings. 

“I would say yes, but you can tell that’s not the truth. Just look at the state I’m in,” Roman responded, gesturing to the goosebumps on his arms and the dark circles under his eyes. Virgil huffed, plopping himself into the chair next to where Roman was standing. 

“Nightmares?”

“Something like that.” Virgil considered a moment before responding. 

“You know, I never really thought of spies as people who have nightmares. They always seem so resilient against those sorts of things. N-not that it’s a bad thing, though,” He added as he saw Roman raise an eyebrow. “The movies just make them seem…less human, I guess. It’s…it’s kinda nice to know that spies are people too.” 

Roman smiled a bit at his words. They were definitely not what he would have expected from the emo nightmare, but that made them all the more charming. 

“So what keeps you up this late, Hot Topic?”

“Aw, you think I’m hot,” Virgil quipped, a faint smirk on his face. After a pause, he continued: “Even the anxiety meds can’t stop the nightmares sometimes.” Roman whistled.

“That’s rough. What, uh…what do you see?” 

“The same thing every time. There’s a scream in the dark, and then a blurry figure steadily walking towards me. And that’s it. Sometimes they get pretty close before I wake up, and I think I can hear them say something. Most of the time that doesn’t happen though.” Roman remained silent, not wanting to say anything inappropriate, not wanting to react wrong. “It’s pretty weird, I know.”

“No, not weird at all,” Roman said softly. 

“What do _you_ see?” Virgil looked carefully up at the man, whose gaze remained on the city lights below them.

“In the line of duty as a spy, you see a lot of things you’d rather not.” Roman paused for a long time, leaving Virgil to wonder if that would be all that he told. “I…I dream of the time I failed an extraction mission. The only time I failed an extraction mission.”

“Shit. No wonder your standards are so high.” 

“Yeah. That’s probably why,” Roman said, sighing. 

“When did it happen?” Virgil shifted himself to look out the window, not wanting Roman to feel forced to respond. Plus, the city lights were quite charming. And a lot easier to look at than a really attractive man. 

“Over a year now. But his face still haunts me like it was yesterday.” Roman immediately regretted saying it. At the same time, though, it felt kind of nice to feel comfortable enough around someone to talk about it. In the whole year since the incident, he hadn’t been able to tell Logan much about the extraction mission, besides that it didn’t work. 

Roman took a deep breath, not sure why he was continuing. “All I could do was run, after it was over. After I knew there was no saving him. So I escaped the facility and apparently reported in the mission failure. No one at RIIS could seem to contact or find me for the next two days, until finally Logan came to my house and discovered me sitting on the floor of my kitchen. According to Logan, I was…I was still trying to scrub his blood off my arms when he found me. There wasn’t actually any blood there anymore, at least not his. But there I was, still trying to feel clean of it. He tried to get me to talk about it, anything at all, but I couldn’t. I stopped speaking for about a week, during which time Logan took care of me. He made arrangements to give me a month’s leave of absence, which is quite generous by RIIS’s standards. He could only get two weeks off to help me recover, though. Even so, Logan helped me through the worst weeks of my life. When I couldn’t take care of myself.” 

Virgil remained silent, shivering at the visuals. Roman’s words somehow hit too close to home, but in a way Virgil could not describe. He hadn’t been in a situation like that, not one nearly as violent as Roman’s. Minus the obvious choice. 

_Wait a minute._

“Remus,” Virgil whispered, looking at Roman for confirmation. “He…”

“Yes. The agent that injured your leg also killed him. That’s why this is…such a hard mission. When I saw him again, for the first time in a year, it threw me off. I wasn’t prepared to protect my charge, when I should have been. I should have anticipated it.”

“You still managed to get us out, though. That deserves a lot of praise. And trust me, I’m happy to be here versus _there_.” 

Roman sniffled, and Virgil realized the man had been holding back tears. 

“Hey,” Virgil said, pushing himself up from his chair and towards the other man. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned into Roman, enveloping him tightly in a hug. The spy put a hand on Virgil’s head and sobbed quietly into his shoulder. “You did good, Roman. I promise.” 

If Virgil had been thinking like he normal, he might have noticed how Roman’s arms easily wrapped around his own figure. How his shoulders were completely bare (Minus the strap of the tank top, of course) and there were well trained muscles on display…

But Virgil’s mind was still flashing with the images of violence. Roman had skirted around the actual _death,_ but he didn’t really need to describe it. Virgil could see enough. 

_How could he move on from that? Even for a spy…_

_The poor guy’s been through enough trauma for a lifetime._

So Virgil let him cry on his shoulder for a long while, until Roman’s tears became dry sniffling. His hands stayed on Virgil’s shoulders when he finally pulled away. 

But his face was turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look Virgil in the eyes. 

He couldn’t. 

If he did, he would fall in love all over again. He could hardly stop himself anymore. 

“Roman, are you going to be okay?” Virgil asked, eyebrows furrowing. Roman nodded, blinking slowly. 

In a sudden movement, he drew Virgil in and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Thank you, Virgil,” He whispered into the man’s ear before pulling away abruptly. Virgil sighed against his own will, but Roman was too far away already to have heard it. Or at least, that's what he hoped. 

The smell of Roman’s cologne lingered on Virgil’s skin after they both had returned to their beds. The feel of the kiss, even if it had just been on the cheek…unforgettable. 

Virgil lay awake for the next hour just playing over the events in his head, a small smile flickering on his face. 

Roman, on the other hand, was finally able to sleep peacefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you so much for your kind comments, I really appreciate it!


	9. Conquest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan makes an executive decision. Some old faces show up again. Roman struggles to deal with his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Wow I really wish some new material would come out for this story.  
> Me:  
> Me: Oh yeah, that's my job
> 
> Warnings: Some mild cursing, Kidnapping: Stop at "This isn't possible" (to the end).

There was complete and utter silence in his room. He sat on the floor, with perfect posture, facing the wall. He was meditating again. The plain, grey walls and carpet washed any viewer into a calmer, more subdued state of mind. 

But not Remus. 

Immune to the suffocating silence of Janus’s room, Remus pounded on a wall to wake the man out of his meditation. Janus’s resting hands curled into fists as he turned the scarred side of his face towards Remus. 

“Wakey wakey, Janus,” Remus purred, ignoring the glare Janus gave him. 

“What is it, Remus?” He sighed. “And please let this be important. Not like last time.”

“Oh, last time was important!” Remus said with a wink, causing Janus’s eye to twitch. “But yes, I’m here to tell you we’ve made some progress with the mission.”

“Did they…”

“Come and see, Janus. I don’t want to spoil it.”

——

Logan had taken a shower, gotten dressed, and packed a bag by 4:00 a.m. Just on schedule. Of course he had the standard gadgets, clothes, bulletproof gear, and plenty of supplies that he would need for the mission. 

He had made a map of the facility with back entrances and passageways late last night. After Patton had gone to sleep, he committed it to memory. Planned which areas would be rigged with traps. Prepared himself for anything he could.

All he left behind was a small index card on Patton’s night stand. He slipped out of the building quietly, the employee at the front desk not even noticing him as he passed.

The central building for RIIS was about fifteen minutes away by train. From there, Logan could enter through the emergency exit—specifically designed for raids such as these. The exits had probably saved the lives of many agents, but, of course, he couldn’t be sure. The news was no longer covering such issues, and the beta channel workers couldn’t say. 

The next step is the vent system. The emergency exit was opened by hand print scanner, covertly placed on a brick in the back alley of the facility. Inside, there was a central hallway that agents could exit through, and also an air duct access. Logan’s best choice to avoid getting spotted was that air duct. The most logical step after that would be to go to the control center of the facility, because there would likely be COTECH agents searching for information. That’s where Logan could find what he wanted. 

——

A frantic knocking on the door caused Roman to jump out of bed, adrenaline rushing into his veins. He rushed to grab a weapon, glancing at Virgil’s bed to see that the man had not been disturbed by the knocking. _I’ll address that later,_ he thought, trying to push down the developing blush as he turned off the safety on his gun.

After looking through the peephole, he turned the safety back on and tossed the gun to the side. The door opened to a very distressed Patton, who immediately clung to Roman when the gap was wide enough for him to slip through. 

“Uh…you okay there, Patton?” Roman asked. 

“It’s Logan,” Patton said, pulling away. It looked like he was about to go and pace the room, but Roman caught him by his shoulders. 

“What happened?” Roman’s tone immediately sobered up, looking Patton squarely in the eyes. Patton shook his head and held out a small notecard—one of Logan’s vocabulary cards, no doubt, but there wasn’t any writing on the front side. Roman flipped it over and noted a small inscription, somehow perfectly centered on the card: 

_By the time you read this I will be at the RIIS facility._

_Please do not follow me, or you will put all of us at risk._

_I know this is not what you wanted, but it is for the best._

_Be back soon._

_-L_

“Shit,” Roman ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Of course Logan would do something like this. Damn it.” 

“What are we supposed to do?”

“I think the idea is that we do nothing and wait for Logan to get back,” Roman sighed, closing the door behind Patton so they could get some privacy to speak. 

“But…why would he do it this way? Why not tell us first?” Patton said, pacing the hotel room. 

“Logan likes to operate alone. He prefers his solo missions. And he’s usually quite good at them. Look, if it’s any consolation, he is a very capable agent. He once took on a mission _by himself_ that was supposed to require three agents. And he succeeded with flying colors.” After a moment, Roman added, “I’m still mad at him, though.”

“He should’ve communicated with us.” 

“Yeah. He should have.” Patton watched Roman’s eyes as they drifted towards Virgil's sleeping figure. He smiled softly to himself.

  
  
“He sleeps like a log, doesn’t he?” 

“Y—yeah, he does.” Roman looked down at his shoes, unsure of what to say. They sat in silence for a few moments. 

“I’m happy it was you they chose,” Patton said suddenly. Roman blinked.

“What?”

“I’m happy they—RIIS—assigned you to this mission. To protect Virgil. You’re good at what you do.”

Roman looked back at Patton, becoming even more surprised when he saw Patton’s soft smile. _That obviously wasn’t an easy omission for him. And here I am…_ He shook off the thought. 

“You’re close to him, aren’t you?” Roman whispered. 

“Yes. We’ve been good friends since middle school. We became friends right off the bat because we were both pretty shy and didn’t want to hang out with too many people and get overwhelmed. We always sat next to each other at lunch. I cheered him up when he wasn’t feeling happy and he kept me from getting hurt or taking reckless risks. We’re a good team. But _man,_ is he bad at taking care of himself. The poor kid works so hard, you have to remind him to eat and to sleep and to take his meds sometimes. I had to _beg_ him to quit his old job because he was pulling crazy hours. Always coming back to his apartment exhausted and starving. Some days he…some days he wouldn’t even come home. I really had to kick into Ultimate Dad Mode to get him out of that horrible cycle. His new job isn’t the best, but…it’s much better than what he used to have. I just…I just want him to be safe.”

Roman recalled the details of Virgil’s profile in regards to his previous job, and made a mental note to never work for that obscure call center Virgil had worked for. 

“I do too, trust me,” Roman said. 

“I trust you.” Patton said calmly and slowly, with a look of fierce determination that Roman had not seen before. There was something else in that look, some secret message Patton was trying to send. Roman just couldn’t figure it out yet. 

Before he had the chance to look further into the details, Roman heard the other bed creak and looked back to see Virgil starting to sit up; blinking rapidly to get the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Mmm,” He groaned, trying to see his surroundings. A thought suddenly popped into Roman's head upon seeing Virgil in his sleepy form; so quickly and so intrusively that Roman had to avert his eyes from Virgil to keep it from echoing through his head. 

“Good morning, Virgil!” Patton said with a newfound grin. 

“Good morning,” Virgil responded, but his words were a nearly unintelligible mumble. Patton didn’t seem to mind. Roman bit his upper lip, deciding to go check out the vault in the back room and assess the weaponry (and maybe the clothing) stores. 

What he had imagined should be unacceptable for any decent spy to think--at least, that's what he thought. It was the only way to rationalize it. It is unacceptable to want to wake up next to your charge every morning of every day. To want to reach out and touch the soft strands of their hair and trace their jawline as they smile sleepily back at you. To...

_Shake it off, Roman. It's never going to happen._ He blinked rapidly.

Why did Roman’s heart ache so badly for this? Why did he have to leave the room to even process the emotions that were now washing over him in violent torrents? Why did he feel like he was about to drown under the weight of it all? 

His eyes scanned over the armor rack indifferently as he came to a final epiphany. 

_It’s because he took your breath away._

——

Logan listened for a long time to the radio chatter below him. It seemed the COTECH operatives had somehow hijacked the alpha channels, sending news out to their own facilities. Nothing to the other RIIS agencies, though. This was the good news: it meant that only one facility had been taken over. It didn’t seem like he was getting much more information from that area, so he moved to check the weapons storage. 

Weapons storage had been one of Logan’s other concerns when planning the intel run. He had been informed a long time ago that there were some very high-tech weapons being tested; including stronger-than-ever EMPs and, to Logan’s pleasure, some that were being designed to avoid injuring the enemy at all—only stopping them in their tracks. He likened these weapons to Tasers, except much more effective, efficient, and with a larger range. And not administering an electric shock. It would be a most useful weapon, but not if the technology was developed at the hands of another agency. Another agency with notoriously bad intentions. 

The slits in the ventilation system allowed Logan to see into the weaponry room—which had been a VERY long crawl from the main communication room—but only to a certain extent. For the rest, he relied on a device nicknamed “Peep” amongst RIIS field agents. This was mainly due to the fact that placing it against a wall or solid surface allowed an agent to see heat signatures and the room layout of whatever was behind the solid surface. It was also because the acronym for the device was EITSUE (Electronic Imaging of Temperature and Structures for Use of Espionage) which didn’t really make for a fun name. 

On the other side of the wall, he noticed a single heat signature amongst the rows of weapon storage racks. They wouldn’t be too much of a target. Their position was not the greatest for self defense, and there would be no time for them to grab one of the experimental weapons. If Logan planned this right.

——

Remus stood too close for comfort. Janus knew it was on purpose—Remus liked to mess with Janus’s more sophisticated tastes just to see how much he could frazzle the other man. It worked without fail, and this delighted Remus. Seeing the man twitch and maybe scrunch his nose in distaste was one of the man’s favorite games. How far _could_ he push Janus before he got annoyed enough to speak up?

“For God’s sake, Remus, would it _kill_ you to take a shower? You smell atrocious.” _Apparently not long. Not today._

“It might,” Remus said, a sudden smirk appearing on his face. “I guess you’ll just have to come with me and find o—” He was interrupted by a swift and clean elbow jab to the stomach. “That was probably deserved,” Remus added, sounding much more strained.

“Stop practicing your one-liners on me.” 

“ _Practicing_?”

“You would have more of a chance getting a date—or even finding someone else to practice your pickup lines to—if you actually had a sense of _personal hygiene_. You're lucky enough that I stick around and tolerate your... _shenanigans._ ”

“Oh, I do have a sense of hygine. Trust me, I use deodorant every day.”

“Eating it doesn’t count,” Janus quipped, earning a few sideways glances from other COTECH agents who were making their way down the halls. 

“Come on…I’m still your favorite team member. Right?”

“Ask me again after you’ve taken a shower. You’ve been filthy ever since we found Virgil.” 

“Speaking of which…”

“What? Did you find him again? Is that why you disturbed me from my meditation?”

“Not quite. But we did find out some useful information. Had it pulled up on the big screen so you could see it.” Janus glanced at Remus. 

“What did you find?” Remus looked back at Janus, a grin forming on his face and a glint in his eye. 

“Take a look,” He said, opening a door on the side of the hallway. Inside was a large screen that nearly covered the entire expanse of the wall. 

Janus grinned at the image.

“It appears we’ve got what we’ve been waiting for.”

——

Logan silently lifted the grate of the air vent, after toiling over the screws for at least five minutes. Giving only a passing glance to the room below him, he slid through the grate and landed on the floor without even a thud. From his crouching position, he could see the moving legs of the guard, approximately three shelves down from where he watched. He crept silently in that direction, careful to stay low to the ground and move slowly, so as not to give them a visual cue of his presence. 

Row three. He was here. Logan prepped himself to swiftly attack and disarm the guard, going through his standard routine. 

But before he could turn the corner, the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against his neck. His throat tightened up. _How is this possible? The—the guard is right there. There was only one heat signature. This isn’t possible. This isn’t possible. H—_

A gloved hand wrapped around his mouth and nose and pulled him backwards. Logan could taste something slightly sweet on the glove… _no, it can’t be the make of the glove…it was doused in something._

_Sweet taste…oh no. Chloroform._

_Well, this gives me five minutes until I’m done for. Four, now. What’s the plan, Logan? Come on, you need a plan._ He spotted a door on the other side of the room, past the guard (who still hadn’t noticed what was going on), and began a struggle to escape before his time was up. The person who was holding him tugged him into another room that Logan hadn’t seen on the EITSUE, and somehow managed to restrain his arms. _No, not someone. Some people. There’s at least two_. _Three minutes._ Logan jerked forward, trying to tug his arms out of the other agent’s grasp. The lights of the room began to dim as Logan kept struggling, and the sweet taste on Logan’s lips grew stronger, somehow. _Two minutes…Legs. My legs are still free._ He kicked out behind him, reaching for a knee or something that would hurt for a while. The foot contacted with some body part, but his kidnappers made no sound for him to tell if it hurt. 

Logan was then shoved into a chair. Or, at least, some semblance of a chair. He couldn’t tell, since his captors had been pulling him backwards. 

_You’re down to one minute. You must make your move._

He used the bars of the chair to propel himself forward, away from his captors. But one of them grabbed both of his shoulders and held fast with a grip as strong as steel. Logan’s own limbs were feeling like lead, and his vision was fading fast. Suddenly, the one grabbing his shoulders released their grip, and stepped around their associate to face Logan.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Hello, Logan. Fancy meeting you here,” Remus whispered, just inches away from Logan’s face. Logan’s eyes widened, and he muttered something unintelligible behind the glove.

As his eyes began to droop from the effects of the chloroform, Remus removed Logan’s glasses, a sickly grin on his face. 

The last thing Logan heard before he fainted was a deep cackle, promising darker things to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me!


	10. Breathe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus and Remus target Logan where it hurts. Roman goes swimming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Some mild cursing.

By sundown, Patton was sure his stomach had been twisted into several sizeable knots. His hands were rubbing circles and creases into the small index card Logan had left—the once-stiff paper felt soft and bendable under his fingers. Roman had stopped him from pacing the hotel room in the morning, after everything had been explained to Virgil, but the afternoon had been a different story. Patton had excused himself to go back to his room, saying he was going to take a nap, but as soon as he was alone the fears began to set in. He’d been pacing, scanning television channels, and folding that paper in and out. Anything he could do to try to calm himself down. The last three words of the letter kept repeating themselves in his mind: _Be back soon. Be back soon. He’ll be back soon. He said so. Keep calm. It’s probably taking him extra time because he found more information. Yeah. He found a lot of information and now he has to take the public transit back and it’s really crowded and it might take some more time…_ His thoughts followed this loop for quite a few hours before he could finally fall into a restless and uneasy sleep on Logan’s bed. 

Virgil and Roman were also scanning the television channels for press releases by COTECH, RIIS, or any other signs of life from Roman’s fellow agents. Their efforts had yielded nothing by late afternoon, though, and even Roman was beginning to have doubts. Logan left early in the morning. Surely an intel mission wouldn’t take so long. 

He didn’t say anything to Virgil, though. The other man had enough to worry about. 

——

Logan’s normally slicked-back hair was slightly disheveled from the dragging that Janus had done. His sleeping figure was stooped forward in the chair they had placed them in, and his breathing was shallow. 

“Be sure to secure his legs. He has one hell of a kick,” Janus muttered to Remus, who was working swiftly to keep Logan from escaping before he woke up. “We probably only have a half an hour before he wakes up. It was difficult to get the dosage right when we had such a short amount of time to prepare.”

  
  
The next thirty minutes were spent trying to prepare for the interrogation. Janus kept in contact with headquarters, trying to establish if there was any background or vulnerabilities that he could exploit. Remus set out a kit full of tools Janus didn’t bother to look at. He wasn’t very sure he wanted to see what was inside. 

“So what’s the plan here, _Deceit_?” Remus asked, fiddling around with some object from the kit. 

“We do things my way first. Then, if he doesn’t talk, we’ll switch to your way.”

“Why can’t _my_ way come first this time?” Remus whined. 

“Because, Remus. Your way almost always kills the victim before we can even get enough information out of them to call it _useful._ ” 

“Oh, I like the sound you make when you get angry.” Remus winked at him, causing Janus’s face to heat up in anger and frustration. 

“Will you just _shut up._ For five minutes. That’s all I ask,” Janus sighed. Remus shrugged and raised his eyebrow. “And don’t give me that look. You know the one.”

A flicker of motion caught Janus’s eye, and he turned towards Logan. 

“He’s awake,” Janus said, standing up from his position across the room. He crossed in a couple of steps and kneeled down in front of Logan’s sagging figure, using a gloved hand to lift Logan’s chin. He grinned slightly at the sight of the spy pretending to be asleep, until that spy opened his eyes and spit into Janus’s face. 

Janus reeled back in disgust, standing up and taking out a handkerchief to wipe it off. Remus stared for a moment before asking, “Can we do it my way now?”

“No, not yet. There are a few more things I would like to try.” He turned back to Logan, who was now glaring at the two of them bitterly. “Firstly, I need to ask you a couple of questions. For example. What is your connection to a Roman Phillips?” 

Logan stared back at Janus. After waiting five seconds for a response, Janus asked, “What was the purpose of your infiltration mission into our facility?”

He said nothing. Janus scowled. 

“This might take a while.”

——

“I think there’s a pool downstairs,” Roman said, staring out the window of their hotel room. 

“What, you want to go swimming, Princey?” Virgil mumbled from his place on the bed. 

“I might. It’ll help get my mind off…all this. You coming?”

“I don’t think I can,” Virgil said, kicking up his leg to remind Roman of the broken ankle. He glanced at the special cast for a moment. 

“Alright.” Roman returned to looking out the window. 

“But…I’ll come with you. If you do,” Virgil said, before realizing how that might sound weird and fumbling for more words. “I—I just don’t want to be alone. If there are, like, a billion agents looking for me.” Roman glanced at Virgil again for a second before moving to the hidden storage closet. 

“Suit yourself,” he said with a dazzling grin, closing the door. It took a couple of seconds for Virgil’s gay heart to process the statement before he realized:

“Was that a pun? I’m going to beat your a—“

“Language!” Roman yelled back through peals of laughter. A few moments later, he appeared through the hidden door wearing a swimsuit. A swimsuit that involved a lack of a shirt. 

_Oh no. Not this again. Virgil, damn it, stop being too gay to function! What did he just say to you? Shit._

“What?”

“I was wondering if you wanted a towel. Just in case you accidentally get water on yourself.” _Come on, Virgil. Respond._

“Uh, sounds like a threat, but okay.” Roman smirked again, retreating into the bathroom, and Virgil exhaled. _Close call. You can do this, man. Just focus on the face. The equally attractive face and those_ cheekbones _…well, shit, you’re screwed._

When Roman came out of the bathroom, he had a towel draped over his shoulder, and one in his hands. Virgil was relieved, because he wasn’t sure if he could continue to handle Roman’s completely bare chest as it was. At least when Roman went swimming it would be harder to see. And he could distract himself with his phone. 

“Shall we?” He said, handing over the towel. Virgil took it with only a nod, trailing behind Roman the whole way to the pool.

“Oh,” Virgil said when they finally got there, after a silent walk to the empty pool, “I should probably text Patton and tell him where we are. So he doesn’t…y’know.”

“Yeah. Good idea,” Roman said as he placed his towel on one of the pool chairs. Virgil watched from behind his phone as he strode to the side of the pool— _Those shoulder blades though…jeez, why does this dude get to be so perfect?—_ and slipped in, barely leaving a ripple on the surface as he went under. 

This gave Virgil time to send the text over to Patton before he went into full heart attack mode over what he’d just seen. _Oh man._ That was just a little too close. Their shoulders had brushed together during the ride down, but Roman hadn’t seem to notice. Virgil, on the other hand, had been panicking. It didn’t help that he had no anti-anxiety medication. He’d have to go without for who knows how long, and he wasn’t a big fan of that. All of his anxiety about proximity to guys? It was going to get so much worse. Virgil could tell when the effects were wearing off; it had started a few hours ago. And now just touching a man’s arm was enough to drive him up a wall. 

Why did it have to be _Roman_ , of all people? Why did they assign _him_ to the job? Fate must have wanted to play some cruel trick on him. The hottest dude Virgil had ever laid eyes on—and he just so happened to be a _spy._ A _gay_ spy—and he could never have him. This dude had no feelings for him, Virgil was certain. And why would Virgil be his type? _I literally wear eyeshadow under my eyes all the time. It makes me look like a raccoon. Or an emo nightmare, in Roman’s own words. And I’m a wreck emotionally. I’m just not great in general._ Virgil sighed, watching the other man swim back and forth in the pool. 

_But why the kiss on the cheek last night as a show of gratitude? I mean, I get it, he’s extra with that kind of stuff, but that seems unordinary._

_Maybe he was just tired. Not really thinking about it._

_But then if he made the move subconsciously, doesn’t that mean he_ does _like me? If he had been filtering his romantic actions towards me to deny them but then he was too tired to_ keep _filtering them…_

_No. He was just tired. Plus, it’s not like he would be attracted to you anyways. He needs to stay around you because it’s his mission. He’s paid for this. He doesn’t love you and you need to chill._

_He doesn’t love you_. _He’s just another mindless RIIS agent,_ one half of his brain spit out suddenly. Virgil blinked, trying to erase the thought from his mind. It was to no avail, as more negative thoughts continued to flow through his head—which wasn’t making him feel much better. The feeling of hopelessness with this stupid _crush_ of his made his frustrations worse, and thoughts he didn’t want to think came popping into his head.

He didn’t remember why the next image he saw was Roman’s confused face. 

——

Janus slammed the door on the interrogation room. 

“This man is impossible,” He hissed, earning him a smug look from Remus. 

“Told you so. Can we move to my way now?”

“I said he was _impossible_. Not that I’m giving up,” Janus fired back. 

“So what’s the plan then, babe?”

“Okay, first off, please never call me that again,” Janus shuddered, “Second off, we still have something we can hold against him. Remember?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Not a clue what you’re talking about.”

“The _tracking device,_ Remus,” Janus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s embedded with the chip. On Virgil. We have two uses on it before it breaks down.”

“Oh, yeah. The tracking device,” Remus said, pausing for a moment. “How do we use it?”

Janus sighed. “You remember nothing of the briefing. What are you thinking about during those? Actually, no, don’t answer that. Basically, I can call for a pulse to be sent out and it will give off Virgil’s current location for thirty seconds. Precise coordinates. We can’t keep the tracker signal going longer than that, however, otherwise it would be easily detected—and traced—by RIIS.” 

“So you want to use it? Right now?”

“Yes. We’ll still have one use afterward, it’s worth the risk. Then we can use the coordinates to get Logan to talk. And maybe we could even implement plan B.” 

“Ah…so we kill him?”

“No, Remus. That’s plan _S_. Plan _B_ is the press conference trick. I think it will work in this context,” Janus said, a tight grin forming on his face. 

“Well, then. Let’s order the tracker pulse.”

——

Swimming had been therapeutic for Roman. After he got out, however, was a totally different story.

He strode over to the chairs by the edge of the pool to retrieve his towel. Virgil didn’t stir from his spot: huddled with his knees up, staring into his phone. Roman watched him for a few moments, but Virgil didn’t seem to be moving at all. If he was breathing, it was so faint that Roman could barely see it. 

Roman furrowed his brows. _Okay,_ _I’ve been staring for an unusually long time, I’ll admit it…but shouldn’t he have at least noticed me? Used his thumb to scroll on the screen? He’s completely still._ He stepped around the chair to try and get a look at whatever was on the screen that might have put him in such a state, only to see nothing. 

The screen was black. 

“Virgil?” He said slowly, draping the towel around his neck. “Virgil, are you okay?”

No response. Roman turned back to face Virgil, whose eyes were unmoving from their fixed point. He put a light hand on Virgil’s shoulder. 

“Virge? What’s wrong?” Roman had a fleeting thought about how that would make a cute pet name, but it was shoved aside when he saw Virgil blink. “You alright there?”

Virgil’s head slowly turned towards Roman’s face in an almost robotic motion. Although the face itself was pointed in Roman’s direction, it was clear that the eyes were not focused on him. They were focused on nothing. Empty.

Roman wanted to believe there was something wrong. That Virgil had seen something weird in the depths of Reddit and needed to turn off his phone to process it. That would make sense. It was the _only_ thing that made sense. How else could the dead-eyed stare be explained? What else could there possibly—

Virgil’s hand grabbed Roman’s neck in a sudden and decisive motion, sending Roman reeling backwards. But Virgil was quicker. His legs twisted over the edge of the chair—in a manner no one could describe as human—and shoved Roman into the wall, arm outstretched to push him up off the ground. Roman scratched at his arm, looking for a way out, but the shock of it all put him a few moves behind Virgil. Or, rather…this empty shell of Virgil. 

_How can he possibly be strong enough to lift me off the ground by my neck? With an injured ankle, no less?_

Roman kicked forward, knocking Not-Virgil backward. He only had a second to gasp for air before the man was upon him again, reaching toward any pressure points he could find. 

But with this attack, there was a fire in Virgil’s eyes—something hungry and full of hatred—that pushed him forward. Roman had no time to process the little chunk of his heart that broke off when seeing it. 

He was fighting for his life, against a very strong adversary. The time for questioning would have to wait until later. 

Not-Virgil continued to reach for any exposed flesh: stomach, biceps, face, neck. Roman regretted leaving his shirt in the hotel room, despite the little protection it would probably provide. _Damn, his nails are sharp._

Using a tactic taught to him by one of his combat instructors, he managed to throw not-Virgil off his balance. He ducked underneath Virgil’s outstretched arms, rolled back onto the ground and pushed his weight onto his forearms, and swiftly kicked his legs out from underneath him. It was a less violent approach to gaining a few seconds of ground in a fight, especially if the opponent was someone who needed to be kept alive. Roman flipped himself back on to his feet and managed to get some distance before not-Virgil struggled to get up. Roman took note of the fact that, despite his being taken over by some violent entity, Virgil was still limping. Considerably, he might add. 

The thing that horrified him most was that not-Virgil didn’t wince at the pain at all. It was like he barely felt the brokenness of his own body, which gave Roman vibes straight out of a horror movie. 

Roman did not like horror movies. 

Virgil was upon him again, this time tearing at Roman’s damp hair. Roman reached a few pressure points that managed to loosen the grip, but they were not as effective as they should have been. Something had to be dulling Virgil’s—or, rather, not-Virgil’s—nerves. And that couldn’t be a good thing. 

The two continued to fight in close combat, their movements developing some sort of a twisted dance as they fell into a rhythm of jabs and retreats. They circled around each other, nearing the pool’s edge until Roman was cornered, with his back to the water. In a split second decision, he grabbed not-Virgil’s black shirt in both of his hands and leaned backward, pulling the fight into the water. The second he felt the water on his back—not a comfortable feeling, he might add—he pushed Virgil off of himself and swam to the other edge of the pool. Virgil did not follow. 

_Why…why isn’t he following?_

_Wait. He’s sinking._

——

Remus tiptoed towards Logan’s stooped figure, grinning viciously. With more force than necessary, he grabbed the bottom of his jaw and yanked his head upward.

“Wake up, sunshine,” Remus purred. Logan’s eyes narrowed, a few strands of his hair loose in his face.

“Get off me.”

“Oh, so he _does_ talk,” Janus smirked. “Good. We’ll need you to do some more of that.”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

“You don’t need to. We already know where Virgil is.” Logan’s eyes flicked up to Janus. 

“How?”

“Why should I tell you that, Logan? When you refuse to tell us anything you know?” Logan lunged forward, pulling on his restraints. “In any case, there _is_ something you can do to remedy the situation. How about making a deal?”

“What do you want?” 

“We have our agents trained on the Fairview Hotel as we speak. So here it is: You speak at a press conference, denouncing your position as part of RIIS, and we won’t kill him. In fact, we’ll leave your little team alone. Won’t even go looking for them after they leave the hotel, as they inevitably will. Do we have ourselves an agreement?”

“Scoundrel,” Logan spit. 

“You have thirty seconds until our snipers get their orders to shoot.”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you want me to go against my own agency? One person isn’t going to change anything, especially not me.”

“I think it will. And I think you’ll see it too, soon enough. Fifteen seconds.”

“And why would you want to kill Virgil?” Logan glared.

“We don’t need him alive to get the chip. Ten.” 

“Don’t do this.”

“Eight. Seven. Six…”

“Ooh, Looks like he’s too stoic to break under the pressure,” Remus taunted, a sickly grin plastered across his face.

“Three. Two—“

“I’ll do it! Just call them off,” Logan yelled. “Call them off.” Janus smirked.

“Good. Glad to hear you’re joining the cast,” Janus said, words dripping with pleasure. “So let’s get started.” He pulled back his sleeve to reveal some sort of radio attached to his wrist. “Call off the strike team.” 

——

“Shit. Virgil, wake up. Please wake up,” Roman said. He lowered his ear down to Virgil’s mouth, listening for signs of breathing. He couldn’t feel Virgil’s chest rise, and after a few seconds of waiting, he moved to perform CPR. 

There was no breathing that Roman could see by the thirtieth chest compression, so he tilted Virgil’s head back and pinched his nose shut. Just as Roman leaned his head down to perform the rescue breaths, however, Virgil gasped for air. A startled Roman stumbled backward as Virgil sat up. 

“What the hell just happened?” Virgil rubbed his forehead, pushing back the wet hair from his face.

“It’s…kind of a long story. And I don’t really know all of the details.” Roman looked down at the tiles of of the pool floor, trying to calm his mind and make the switch from fight-for-your-life mode back to level-headed-RIIS-agent mode.

“And, uh…why do you have scratches all over your body?” Virgil said, tilting his head towards Roman’s bare chest. Roman looked down, too. Virgil wasn’t wrong, there were new red scratches amongst the older scars on his chest, stomach, and all over his arms. Probably some on the face as well. 

“Part of the long story. I’ll do my best to explain, but not here. Let’s go back to the hotel room,” Roman said. Virgil nodded, and as he stood up and limped his way to the doors, Roman sighed with relief. But this weird…incident…left him with far more questions than before. What happened to Virgil? Why…why did he attack Roman like some animalistic switch had been turned on? Why doesn’t he remember it? 

The questions swirled through his head as they reached the hotel room. While Virgil took a shower and got changed into some dry clothing, Roman called Patton over to recount what had happened. Patton seemed to be just as mystified as he was. 

When they finally explained it to Virgil, all the color drained from his face. 

“How could I…” his eyes flicked down to Roman’s chest, where the scratches were still gleaming red. _Amongst an impressive set of abs—wait, no, Virgil, not the time for this._

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense to me. Also, odd question, but do you work out?” Roman said, furrowing his brows.

“Uh…no?” Virgil said with a nervous laugh. “Why?”

“Because you were able to lift me off the ground when you were trying to choke me. With one hand.” Virgil’s eyes went wide. “And that seems VERY odd to me.”

“Odd is a mild way to put it,” Virgil said. “I have no idea how the hell I was able to do that.”

“I might,” Patton chimed in. “Remember how Virgil has that chip implanted in him somewhere?”

“Yeah. Pretty hard to forget,” Virgil sighed. 

“What if it was implanted in your head?” 

“How would that affect him?” Roman asked, eyes narrowing as he mulled over the idea.

“I hope this isn't the case, but it could be…malfunctioning. Doing something to the wiring of Virgil’s brain to make him go rogue.” Virgil gulped.

“Or what if the chip was _made_ to do that? To force him attack for small bursts of time.”

“I—I really don’t want to think about that,” Virgil said, feeling a little short for air. Patton glanced over and noticed the change in Virgil’s features. He moved towards Virgil in a few steps and put hands on both of his shoulders, locking eye contact.

“Look at me, Virgil. Remember the breathing exercise we learned. In for four…good. Now hold for seven...” Roman backed away from the two to give them some space, but he kept listening to take some notes. Just in case anything like this happened again. 

After Virgil had managed to calm down from his near anxiety attack, Patton left to clear up hotel arrangements with the front desk. Roman turned on the television set to try and at least feel like he was being useful. There were a few minutes of silence between Virgil and Roman as the latter scanned channels, but soon enough, Virgil broke it. 

“Uh, Roman? I have a weird question.” Roman had no idea why his heart sped up when he heard Virgil say it. 

“Yeah?” He set down the remote. 

“Did you, uh…jeez, I have no idea how I’m supposed to phrase this. Uh…did you—did you kiss me?”

“What?” Roman said, very calmly. Very deliberately. Or at least that’s what he hoped. In reality, Roman’s face was heating up much more quickly than he would have liked, and his heart was thudding in his chest. He could feel the blood rushing to his ears.

“Did you kiss me? Uh. When I woke up, back at the pool, your, uh…your face was right above mine and it kinda looked like you had just—“

“Oh! N-no, no. I didn’t kiss you. I was performing CPR. You woke up when I was about to do the first rescue breath. I’m _very_ against non-consensual kissing,” He laughed, trying to soothe the rapid beating of his heart. _Virgil’s going to have to perform CPR on_ me _pretty soon here if I don’t start breathing._

“Oh. Okay. Good to know,” Virgil said, eyes drifting back towards the screen. Roman watched as Virgil suddenly did a double take. “Roman, turn up the volume. Now.”

Roman snapped his head to the television to see— _oh my God. It’s him_. 

He grabbed the remote and cranked up the volume just in time to hear the speech. 

“ _My name is Logan Fletcher. I am—I was—an agent of RIIS, and that is why I come before you today. As of right now, I want they world to know that I denounce this agency as a whole. Their hierarchal system is corrupt. Their…_ ”

“WHAT?” Roman said in a sudden outburst. “Logan, what the hell? How is this possible? He—he’s the most loyal person in the agency. It isn’t possible.”

“Roman, hang on. Don’t give up hope yet. You see his eyes?” Roman squinted forward.

“What about them?” 

“Isn’t he blinking a lot more than a normal person would?” It was true. He was. Was it a sign of nervousness? Proof that COTECH was making him say it against his will?

No. Not Logan. Logan would provide more solid evidence. Like…

“Morse code. He’s blinking morse code. I need paper and a pencil,” Roman rushed, turning around in the room to scour for the materials.

There. Some on the desk. He began transcribing the code as Logan spoke on. 

The code started to pull itself together. First, a dash: the letter T. Then, a dot: E. The message continued until Roman had formed some semblance of a code. 

“… _As a final note, I would like to invite my former coworkers to a gala, where you can officially switch your loyalties to COTECH, just as I have done. It is to be scheduled on 20 September 2019. More information will come soon as to the location. Thank you for your time.”_

“A gala? That’s definitely not the type of thing Logan’s interested in,” Virgil said, furrowing his brows. “Got anything from the code?”

“I’m putting it together now.”

\- . -.-. .... / .. ... / . ...- .. .-..

\- T

. E

-.-. C

…. H

.. I

… S

. E

…- V

.. I

.-.. L

“This is what it says,” Roman said as he handed over the notepad to Virgil. “I’ll bet you ten dollars that the first word is supposed to spell ‘COTECH.’ Meaning his loyalties still lie with us.”

“Also meaning that Logan’s in grave danger,” Virgil said soberly.

“Looks like we’re going to that gala, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two brooos, chillin in a hot tub, five feet apart 'cause they're not gay (except they are gay. Everyone's gay). 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for your comments and kudos! :D


	11. What's a Feelings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FEELINGS ARE HARD. Roman and Virgil realize this all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! :D
> 
> Warnings: Mild cursing throughout.

“ _ROMAN_!” Patton cried, knocking feverishly on the hotel room door. Virgil and Roman exchanged a glance, before Roman went to answer the door. Patton burst into the room and instantly began the cycle of pacing as he tried to process what had happened. 

“He just… _said_ all of that stuff! Like we meant nothing to him. And I know he’s a spy, and that’s what they’re supposed to do, but doesn’t he feel _something_ for us? It was completely uncalled for. He just denounced his own agency…”

“Pat? You gotta stop pacing,” Virgil said, looking at Patton with concern. “Look, we don’t think that’s what he actually believes. He was forced to say it.” 

“How can you be sure?” Virgil held out the notebook in his hand for Patton to see. The latter read through the notes Roman had written a couple of times before the realization hit him. “TECH is evil. COTECH is evil? How did you get the code for this?”

“He was blinking—we think it signified morse code. It’s very unlikely it was a coincidence that he blinked out some random letters that just _happened_ to spell that,” Roman said, attempting to reassure the man. Patton paused for a moment, considering. 

“Okay,” He said slowly. “So, uh…what do we do now?”

“Well, they said they were dropping the location for some kind of dance tomorrow night. As a ceremony for RIIS agents to transfer over to COTECH, I guess.”

“Not a _dance,_ it’s a _gala_!” Roman said with an unexpected flair of his hands. When the other two gave him a look of confusion, he dropped them. “They teach us this stuff in the academy.”

“So…what do you know about galas?” Patton asked tentatively.

“Enough to say for sure that the clothes in the RIIS closet won’t be enough for the event. They do provide the ideal amount of formal wear, but not for _this_.”

“What do you mean? We need to drop everything and go shopping for suits? Even after what happened at the pool?” Virgil asked, eyes flicking downward.

“Exactly. And there’s no time to waste.”

——

The door opened to Logan’s designated holding chamber, shedding a sliver of cold light into the room and onto the chair he sat in. Logan recognized Remus by the unusual way he walked—not quite hunched over, but a sort of crab-like gait; far less graceful than Deceit’s gliding manner. 

“Sitting comfortably?” Deceit asked, a faint smirk curling the corners of his lips. “It’s time for your next assignment.”

“As if I have any choice in the matter.”

“Ah, Logan, you do have the gift of catching on very quickly."

“I’m not joining COTECH. That wasn’t part of the deal,” Logan growled back. 

“You’re right. But this next part _was_ , you’ll recall.” After a beat of silence, Deceit continued. “The gala you have so graciously invited our old RIIS friends to—you’ll need to be there as a host, promoting the switch between agencies.”

“That _wasn’t_ the deal. I made the speech, that was it. You agreed to leave my team alone.”

“Hm. I don’t seem to recall. Maybe we could radio the snipers and try to refresh their memories?” Logan curled his hands into fists. In this light—and without his glasses on—he couldn’t make out Deceit’s facial features, but he was sure they were contorted in a wide smirk. 

——

Roman had been stargazing over the city at night for a while now—probably more than one should the night before a gala—before he was interrupted by a restless shift from his roommate. Virgil had tossed and turned in his bed for the better part of an hour, and although Roman was able to ignore it at first, he was having trouble doing so now. The more he focused on it, the louder it seemed to get. It was starting to interrupt the sleep-like trance Roman had created for himself. 

After another attempt at refocusing, Roman decided to check on Virgil. The man had started to mutter unintelligibly. 

Roman noticed as he got closer that this wasn’t the run-of-the-mill restless sleeping. Virgil was sweating. His eyes were clenched shut, and Roman could see sweat beading on his forehead. _Is that a tear?_

“R…” Virgil began to mutter, his features quickly turning distressed. Roman reached out a hand to still the man, but Virgil’s shoulder twitched before Roman could reach it. He pulled back his arm tentatively. “R—“ 

_What is he saying?_

The man struggled with his words for a moment more before making a choked sound and producing a single word:

“Run.”

Followed by equally startling screaming. 

Roman was quick to act, grabbing Virgil’s shoulder and gently shaking him awake. 

“Virgil! Virgil, wake up!” Roman whisper-shouted. Virgil’s eyes flicked open and he jumped back, shielding his face after the sudden shock of being jostled awake. Roman furrowed his brows and began to ask slowly: “Are you okay, Virgil?” 

“Uh…I don’t know. I—I think that was a nightmare. Sorry to wake you up,” Virgil mumbled, relaxing his hands. He looked away from Roman, instead focusing on the ceiling in order to avoid seeing the concern on Roman’s face. 

“You didn’t wake me. I was already up,” Roman said softly, pushing his curly hair back from his face. “I heard you tossing and turning and I wanted to make sure you were okay. And then you started screaming.”

“What?”

“You have quite the terrifying scream,” Roman laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Virgil seemed to tense up even more. 

“Sorry. I don’t really know what that was.”

“It’s fine, Virgil. Don’t even worry about it.”

“I worry about everything, Roman,” Virgil said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Roman let out a breathy laugh. 

“So, uh…nightmare again?” A sudden flash of nervousness ran through Roman’s body, for reasons unknown. He sat on the edge of Virgil’s bed to steady himself. 

“Yeah. Really weird ones too. Kinda violent,” Virgil said with a shudder.

“It’s the worst kind. You want to talk about it?” Virgil seemed to be considering his answer for a second— _or is he considering my biceps? No…_ —before he responded.

“Yes…but not right now. I just wanna sleep, y’know,” He huffed, his exhaustion becoming more evident on his face. Roman nodded. 

“I understand. In that case, I’ll leave you to it.” He crossed the room to his own bed, casting one final glance to Virgil before he moved under the covers. 

_I should probably try to get some sleep anyways. Don’t want to have dark circles under my eyes at the big event._ Roman thought as he closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind from the sudden tension he had just felt standing next to Virgil. _What is it you felt back there? You never feel nervous in that kind of situation before. It’s not…it’s not how a spy should feel._

“Roman?” Virgil whispered suddenly.

“Yes?” Roman heard the other bed shift, and looked over to see Virgil sitting upright on his bed.

“What do you do after a really tough mission? Like, violent, I mean.” Roman took almost a minute trying to come up with a good response.

“Well, uh…I usually spend it with someone I love. A family member, a good friend…you know. Helps me keep my mind off things,” He said slowly. “Why do you ask?”

“The last few days have been kind of…traumatizing. I guess I want to be ready for whatever comes next, especially with the news from Logan…” Roman sighed, and sat up on his own bed. He glanced up at Virgil, who was staring off towards the window. The city lights lit up his face in a soft bluish hue, bringing out the contrast between his skin and the shadows under his eyes. Suddenly the proximity between the two began to fade away in his mind. All Roman could see was Virgil’s brown eyes glimmering in the dim blues as the rest of the world melted back. _There’s nothing in your way now. Just you and him. Do it._ A flicker of courage stirred itself in Roman’s stomach; enough to make his palms sweat. He took in a deep breath in attempt to still his racing heart. 

“I wish you had never had to see that.” Virgil’s head snapped up. 

“No, wait. I—I didn’t mean to blame you. I just wanted to, y’know. Get it off my chest.” Roman nodded. 

“Come over here,” He said, patting the space next to him. Virgil followed his instructions, drowsily stepping across the room and dropping himself on Roman’s bed. “Look, Virgil. I may be a spy, but you can talk to me if you need to. I’ve been through what you’ve been through.” The flicker of courage began to fade, like a single candle flame that had consumed all the wax of the candle. 

_Virgil can never love you, Roman._

_But at least he can be your friend._

_That will be good enough._

“I’m…so scared of something like _this_ ,” Virgil pointed to his injured leg, “Happening again. Or something like what I did to you earlier. I wish I understood what it was. What I did. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would I just… _attack_ you, you know? And what if one day you leave to go find Logan and you come back here carrying Logan’s dead body? Or what if…what if you _didn’t_ come b—“

Roman leaned over and enveloped Virgil in a hug. He wasn’t sure if it was a hug of comfort, or if it was to stop Virgil from saying those words. Those words he asked himself every morning. 

“I can hold my own, Virgil,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s ear. Virgil’s face heated up. “And I promise you, I will do anything I can to keep you safe.” 

“I just don’t want to be alone,” The man said in a choked murmur. “I’m scared of what I’ll do. If—If it’s anything like what Patton said—” 

“You won’t do anything.” Roman pulled back from the hug and looked Virgil in the eyes. “Even if something _does_ happen, I’ll be able to hold you off. I did last time.”

“No, you didn’t,” Virgil said darkly. For a moment the shadows on Virgil’s face made it look as if the other Virgil was back; the one that had inhuman strength, the one that distorted every beautiful feature that Roman saw in him. But the moment passed, and Virgil tilted his face up to reveal only concern resting in his features. “I saw the scars. I can see them now, right there,” He pointed to Roman’s cheek. “And bruises. I _hurt_ you. A lot. And I really don’t think it’s safe for me to be around you right now. Or anyone,” Virgil said, his voice rising. “I could do worse next time.”

“I’m prepared for worse,” Roman whispered breathlessly. Virgil paused at this, studying Roman’s eyes. 

Virgil could see that there was something there. Some determination hidden behind those blank and hardened eyes of Roman’s. 

He wasn’t afraid of him.

After all the descriptions of Virgil’s actions; the horrifying things they could suggest? Yet there was no fear. 

No fear.

It was something Virgil was unused to, though he couldn’t quite explain why. 

Maybe it was the looks of disgust and apprehension he so often received by his schoolmates. 

Maybe it was the averted eyes he was used to noticing as he walked by on the street. 

Maybe the looks of his peers when he first danced with a guy. 

Little flickers of hate he had seen that had deposited like silt across his mind, closing him off from accepting that someone might love you back. Or that it was even possible. 

So what were these looks Virgil kept receiving? Why wasn’t Roman _afraid_?

He wanted so badly to kiss him in that moment. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The little grains of silt kept building up, closing him off. He turned his head away from Roman’s gaze. 

Roman glanced once more at the city lights before turning back to Virgil’s nervous façade. His eyes began to glimmer in the moonlight. 

——

“Wake up, Logan! It’s time for the big event~” Remus said, voice shrill with a twisted excitement. Logan was thrust from a restless slumber by his restraints being tugged off. He stretched his wrists for a moment before Remus got another grasp on them, dragging him to the door of his dark holding cell. The door was shoved open, and Logan was temporarily blinded by the intensity of the hallway lighting. He didn’t have much time to take in his surroundings before Remus reached another room: some kind of storage closet that had been re-fitted into a dressing room of sorts. 

“Now, Logan. I’d like to introduce you to Remy. He’ll be dressing you for the event.” Logan searched the room, but didn’t see anything until a bolt of fabric was suddenly thrown out of a small closet. Following closely afterwards was a man wearing a clean cut leather jacket and reflective aviators. He may have looked more dressed up had he not been covered in bits and scraps of fabric. 

The man seemed to study Logan for a moment, as Logan did him, before turning to Remus. 

“Logan. Gala. Yes?” He said, in some sort of accent that Logan couldn’t place. 

“Yes. Are you ready to begin, Remy?” Remy’s gaze hovered on Remus for barely a second before he turned to Logan again. 

“Place your legs shoulder width apart. Arms out. Head facing forward,” Remy instructed, making it clear that there would be no arguing. He shared one more glance with Remus, and suddenly Logan felt a numbness in his arms and, a second later, his legs. He tried to look at what had caused the numbness, but his struggles were rewarded with nothing. He was paralyzed.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Remus purred, and Logan heard the lock of the door click a second later. As soon as his footsteps were out of earshot, Remy huffed in disgust. 

“That man I do not like,” he growled. “Now, on to you. You are wondering why you cannot move, yes? We used adhesive patches that paralyze your limbs. Very fast and very effective. You will feel nothing in these areas until the patches are taken off as well.” He stopped a moment to measure Logan’s reaction—or lack thereof—before continuing. “Please do not try to escape when I take them off, because I will have to call Remus, and he will hurt you in ways I know not. Despite my experiences with the man already.” 

Logan decided that it must have been an Austrian accent. 

“Now I will take your measurements. Stay still,” He said, giggling from his own joke. 

Logan then finalized his list of ten ways to murder this dude once he was released from his paralysis-imprisonment.

——

Virgil blinked awake the next morning to an empty hotel room. The sun shone gently through the window, indicating that it was still early morning, eight o’clock at the latest. He sat up from his bed, only to become more disoriented. 

_Wait a sec. I thought I slept farther from the window than this._

He glanced to his right to look for Roman’s bed. Except…there wasn’t a bed there, just a wall. When he looked to his left, it dawned on him. 

_What the hell am I doing in Roman’s bed?!_

Panic set in as Virgil tried to recall the events of the past night. What had happened? Why did he not remember? He threw back the covers, getting out of the bed as quickly as possible to search for an explanation. It was more of a sloppy and frantic stumble than a leap out of bed, but it worked. He backed away from the bed and to the bathroom, locking the door behind him so he had some time to think without having to worry about seeing Roman. 

_Uhh…okay, okay. I’m still wearing clothes, that’s good, right? Okay. What happened last night?_ Virgil thought, scrutinizing himself in the mirror as if he was interrogating his reflection. _I had some sort of nightmare. Kinda blurry there…then Roman was standing by my bed. Oh, yeah. I was screaming and he woke me up. Then he wanted to talk about it but I got all flustered by his biceps and tried to go back to sleep and forget about it…that didn’t work._

_He, uh. I think he invited me to his bed. But he didn’t ask me to sleep. We just started talking._ Virgil’s face heated up as he remembered the sensation of Roman whispering into his ear; warm breath tickling Virgil’s hair and rolling down his neck. And the promises he made. 

_‘I will do anything I can to keep you safe_.’ 

The phrase came back to him clearly, in a sudden revelation that knocked Virgil backwards. His face burned red as he started to connect the dots. 

_He said that? He said that. To my face. Like, for real._

_God, I hope that wasn’t just a dream._

As he tried to recover from the redness that had spread across his face, he thought of what had happened next. The details were much blurrier there. 

_I still have no idea if I actually slept with Roman. Maybe I didn’t and I was overreacting. Maybe we switched beds or something._ Virgil continued to deny sleeping in the same bed as his biggest crush, but he couldn’t deny the facts that were there: The scent of Roman’s cologne clung to his clothing and hair, confirming that he had to have been in close proximity to Roman for longer than the duration of just one hug. The dread began to set to the pit of his stomach, and he prayed that it was all some wonderful dream. _If I slept with Roman, how will I even be able to look at him again?_

_Will he even be able to look at me?_

_What if he regrets it?_

_What if he never wants to see me again?_

_Wait a second. Where_ is _he?_

——

Roman was, at about the same time, sitting at one of the dining tables in the main lobby. The cameras had _mysteriously_ stopped working, so now Roman watched as an electrician puzzled over the seemingly broken machinery. 

“Roman, you haven’t touched your food,” Patton chastised. “You of all people should know the importance of eating breakfast. I have to get on Virgil’s case enough as it is.”

Roman’s heart fluttered compulsively upon hearing the name, making it even harder to focus on food. The events of the previous night kept him in a sort of shock that he hadn’t recovered from yet. 

_You slept with Virgil Morris. You slept with your charge._

Roman recalled his surprise at waking up next to the man. It had been early in the morning, far earlier than Virgil would have been awake. Virgil’s face had been inches from his own, their hair almost touching. The rest of his body had been molded to Roman’s own, one of Virgil’s arms draped over Roman’s back. 

Roman remembered breathing in Virgil’s scent, and having the breath catch in his throat as Virgil adjusted his position to get somehow closer to Roman. The warm breath Roman felt on his skin. The sensation of being next to someone again, after so long. When Roman had finally managed to dislodge himself from Virgil’s embrace, he remembered something else: Virgil had asked. Virgil had asked if he could sleep with him. 

_And you said yes._

Roman stabbed his fork into some of the food the hotel had provided. “Sorry, I just have some things on my mind.”

“Like what?” Patton asked, brows furrowing. 

“I think I might have made a bad decision, but I’m really not sure. And I don’t know how to deal with it right now.” Patton stared at him for a moment, trying to formulate a response. 

“Would this potentially bad situation have to do with Virgil?” He said slowly. 

“Well…um.”

“You slept with him.” Roman’s face went beet red. 

“It’s—it’s not like that. We didn’t—“

“I know. But you did sleep with him?”

“Y-yes. How did you know?” Roman pushed back his hair, regretting the decision to even bring it up. 

“When I gave you a hug this morning, his scent was still on you. You two wear very distinct cologne,” Patton said, half-chuckling. 

“Oh,” Roman said, unable to produce any other decent response. His thoughts were whizzing by at an impossible speed, and his mouth was unable to keep up. Silence fell between the two of them as Roman tried to process this additional layer of information. 

“What are you going to do?” Patton asked in a much gentler voice. 

“I…I don’t know. I probably won’t say anything about it. Yet. If he brings it up, I’ll talk about it. But it might be better if I know he wants to. I don’t want to force him to think about it if he doesn’t want to.”

“And…what if he does?” Roman paused for a moment. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to be ready for anything.”

——

Virgil managed to stumble his way through a shower, all the while thinking about Roman. His face, the curls of his hair, the way he fluttered his eyelashes when he was tired…He couldn’t get it out of his head. 

The fact that he couldn’t seem to wash off his cologne wasn’t helping either. 

Once he had gotten dressed, he noticed a notecard lying neatly on the nightstand in between their beds. Face flushing, he reached for the card, praying that it wasn’t what he expected it to be. 

_Patton and I are having breakfast in the hotel lobby._

_Come join us when you can!_

_-R_

Virgil gave a small sigh of relief. He had expected a goodbye letter, and this was much better in comparison. 

However, it did mean that they probably weren’t going to acknowledge the events of last night. He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

On the one hand, it might save him the embarrassment of having to talk about it, and all that awkwardness.

One the other hand, it could mean that Roman was ashamed of sleeping with him. That he wanted to forget it ever happened. _That he doesn’t want to be with me._

Virgil shook the thought out of his head. “ _Just take it as you read it, Virgil. Don’t overanalyze.”_ It was something his therapist had told him for a while. 

_Just take it as you read it. Just go down to breakfast,_ He repeated to himself as he struggled to put his brace on and grab his crutches. And as he clambered into the elevator. And down to the main hall. He began moving out towards the lobby, where a couple of patrons were dining, when he saw Patton and Roman seated in front of him. Roman’s back was to Virgil, and as soon as the latter saw him, his stomach dropped. 

_ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION_!!

Patton looked up just as Virgil whirled around and sped—as fast as one can go on crutches—down the hall, and out of their view. Patton furrowed his brows. 

“You know, I haven’t seen Virgil for a while. Should I go check on him?” Roman asked, worry lines starting to form on his face. 

“N-no, I’m _sure_ that he’s perfectly fine. Not. uh. Not in need of any help. Or people looking for him. He’s fine,” Patton gulped, trying to make a decent excuse as Virgil got out of sight. Roman squinted. 

“You just saw him,” Roman deadpanned. 

“Yeah…”

“He wasn’t happy to see us?”

“No, it wasn’t that. I think he’s just nervous. To talk about…stuff.” Roman nodded. 

“You’re probably right. So definitely going with the pretend-like-nothing-happened strategy.” Patton nodded back. 

“Maybe I should go find him. When I get back, just pretend like we never talked about this,” Patton said as he stood up from his chair. 

“Got it,” Roman said, watching as Patton walked away. 

_Damn. Did I mess up here? Should I have said no?_

But he couldn’t stop feeling the butterflies fly into his chest, making him dizzy when he saw Virgil’s peaceful rested face so close to his own. 

_How did I fall so hard for him?_ He scoffed, in slight disbelief of his scenario. 

——

Patton, meanwhile, walked towards the elevators, but couldn’t find Virgil. At the end of the hallway, Patton discovered an almost-abandoned staircase that looked like the sort of dark and edgy place that would attract a Virgil. Sure enough, when the heavy metal door was opened, Virgil was sitting underneath the base of the stairs, crutches cast aside. His face rested in his hands. 

“Virgil, buddy? Are you okay there?” Patton whispered. Virgil twitched. He began to mutter incoherently into his arms. “Virgil?”

The muttering continued as Virgil lifted his head and stared at—no, past—Patton. Slowly he began to stand up, contorting his body in odd ways to lift himself off the ground. He began to approach Patton with those dead, soulless-seeming eyes, with a slight limp in his gait where he should be feeling immense pain. Patton backed towards the wall, eyes widening. 

“Virgil? Virgil, please. Please come back. Oh dear,” Patton said in a panic, reaching for the handle of the door as Virgil approached. “Oh no. Please, please, no…” Patton’s hand slipped from the door handle as this not-Virgil came closer and closer. 

Suddenly, the door was forced open from behind him. Patton stumbled backwards as another figure—Roman?—dashed forward, hurling something at Not-Virgil. Patton watched in shock as, suddenly, Virgil seemed to blink himself awake again. He was dripping wet, and Roman held an empty glass in his hand. 

“Water,” Roman breathed. “Water can shut it off.”

“What?” Virgil said, scrunching his brows. “How…How did I get here?”

“You did that thing again,” Roman said gently. “But it’s okay, no one was hurt. Right, Patton? You all good there?”

“Yeah. Not-Virgil didn’t hurt me,” Patton responded, standing up slowly. Virgil wiped the water out of his face, and pushed back his bangs. 

“Guess this is my second shower today,” Virgil laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Patton grinned, and even Roman threw out a signature smirk. 

“You ready to get out outfits for the gala?” Roman asked. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, so I know this chapter came out much later than I intended. This is because I struggled a lot with the wording on this one, and I didn't want to set it out until I felt it was of a better quality. I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Thank you for the wait, and as always, I appreciate all your comments and kudos! <3


	12. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gala has arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop whoop I'm back. 
> 
> I think this chapter might be a little more fast paced than the others, so good luck!
> 
> No major warnings.

It took the better part of four hours for the trio to decide on suits—Roman couldn’t choose which one matched his eyes the best (Virgil got too lost in his eyes to notice the suit or be of any help), Patton found a suit with dogs patterned on the vest and needed to take twenty minutes to talk himself down from buying it, and Virgil was just an indecisive mess all around. His thoughts kept on drifting back to “ _I wonder if Roman would find this attractive?_ ” despite his best efforts. He still wasn’t sure why he was thinking that—if Roman agreed to sleep with him, there must be something there, right? 

_Or he could just be being nice. Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s gay for you._

Virgil sighed, making the person hemming his pants very confused. 

“You okay, buddy?” They asked out of the blue. Virgil snapped out of his semi self-deprecating thoughts. 

“Uh. yeah. Sorry. Just flustered is all. There’s a big event going on tonight and. I don’t know. For once in my life I actually care about looking good, but I don’t think he’ll even notice,” Virgil said, his eyes flicking away from the mirror. The tailor paused their work for a moment and looked up at Virgil with a raised eyebrow. 

“Excuse me? You look amazing. You’re totally rocking that dark-prince look. I bet he won’t even be able to take his eyes off of you, man.” 

Virgil gave a faint smile of thanks as the tailor continued their work. It was true—he definitely was pulling off a dark, edgy look. His suit jacket was a deep black on the outside, but revealed a dark satin purple on the lapel and the vest; contrasting the white button down underneath. It was nicely trimmed to fit his frame. 

“All right, I think you’re all done,” The tailor said. They put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “And remember. All you gotta do is believe in yourself—and maybe do a little something with your hair?—and you’ll be fine. Good luck, man,” They gave Virgil one last reassuring smile before exiting the room. Virgil took one last look at himself in the mirror, grinning as he did so. 

“You can do this, Virgil,” He breathed. 

——

“I think we are all done here,” Remy announced, finally. He stood back to admire his handiwork. Logan was now wearing a dark blue suit with a black tie and a creme-colored flower pinned to his lapel. His hair had been gelled back in his typical fashion. Now all that remained was releasing Logan from the paralysis. Remy seemed to size Logan up for a moment before reaching behind Logan’s neck. 

  
Instantly, each nerve in his body awakened again. He had planned to swiftly attack Remy and get him out of the way, but he instead toppled to the floor, spots dancing in his vision. He felt short of breath. 

“This is why you do not lock your knees, sweetie,” Remy said, barely glancing down at the man on the floor. He stepped over Logan nonchalantly, moving to a keypad on the wall to call for security. “Hello. This is Remy. B11 is ready for pickup. Take care of him quickly, please, he is blocking up my workspace.” 

——

Patton, Roman, and Virgil had agreed to get dressed just outside the gala event center, for the sake of being inconspicuous. This meant sneaking across town toting dress bags, getting dressed in a secure location, and disposing of their other clothes in an undisclosed drop site. Going inconspicuously also meant that Virgil had to ditch the crutches and rely on his brace to protect the wounded ankle. 

Virgil was the first one out after changing into the suit. As he waited for the other two, he fiddled with the corners of his suit jacket, uncomfortable with the level of formality he was showing. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore a suit like this. Or the last time he had cared so much about how his hair looks. His hand kept reaching up to touch it, trying to adjust each individual strand. 

“If you keep doing that, your whole look will fall apart.” Virgil jumped at the unexpected noise, turning on his heel to see Roman leaning against the wall. 

He looked stunning.

There was a black suit jacket with subtle gold embellishments throughout. Underneath that, he had a deep red vest with the same embellishments, and a tie to match. His hair looked smooth and wavy, the natural golden highlights brought out by the suit. 

Virgil’s heart began to race once more at the sight of him. His mouth opened to try and explain himself, but no words came out. Before he completely made a fool of himself, though, Patton walked out, lowering the tension in the room. He wore a suit with a grey jacket and a light blue button down that softened any roughness in his features. 

“Hey guys! You ready?” He asked eagerly. Virgil could tell he was just trying to keep a positive façade, but he decided to roll with it anyways. 

“Yeah,” He nodded, stealing one last glance at Roman before following Patton out the door. 

——

The gala was already full of people, dressed in colors across the spectrum. Logan recognized some of them as RIIS agents. Some of them he had worked with in the past. The majority, however, remained unknown; anonymity was valued in RIIS. He could point out each reporter in the room by their hidden cameras and unsure smiles. This gala was going to get a wide range of media coverage, no matter what COTECH did to suppress it. 

Logan could feel every pulse of tension amongst the COTECH agents. They had a plan here—it was more than just transitioning agents from organization to organization. This was going to be world changing.

He just couldn’t figure out what it was. 

The “security guard” that hadn’t left his side for the entire event thus far had been useful for picking up on the undercurrent of the room, but Logan couldn’t find anything else until he got her off his tail. 

Making a loud escape would immediately alert all the RIIS agents that there was something wrong with this deal. The rivalry between the intelligence groups would continue, and maybe RIIS would even gain the upper hand. The cons? Roman, Patton, and Virgil would get killed. 

If he managed to shake the guard quietly, he might be able to escape and scope out the plan. He could even feign as one of the agents without much difficulty. 

_Out of sight, out of mind…_ Logan thought to himself, taking a sharp turn to his left. He twisted under the massive stair columns and watched as the guard continued forward. He waited a couple of minutes before moving again, into an inconspicuous passageway that was cut off from the main hall so he could avoid being seen. 

——

“Are you sure they won’t recognize me?” Virgil whispered to Roman after they stepped through the doors. Roman could practically feel the anxiety in Virgil’s voice when they entered the crowded main hall where the ceremony was taking place. 

“You should be fine. I doubt they’ll be expecting me to bring you, anyways.”

“Yeah, but what if—” A random passerby bumped into Virgil, cutting off his speech and pushing him into Roman’s side. Roman twisted his head to see who it was, and noticed a security guard pushing her way through a dense crowd. Furrowing his brows, he took off to follow. Virgil and Patton exchanged glances before trailing along after him. 

The guard didn’t seem to notice she was being followed, until she suddenly veered to the right and disappeared. Roman paused in this nearly-empty hallway, and Virgil took the opportunity to ask, “What is it, Roman?”

“That security guard was looking for something. Or someone. It might be a step to finding out what’s going on here,” Roman whispered, eyes flicking back and forth around the hallway. He turned slowly towards Virgil. “If we wait here for a bit, we might find out what she’s—wait. Where’s Patton?”

Virgil whipped around, searching the spot that, a moment ago, was occupied by the man. Nothing there. No hints of the blue-and-grey suit that he had been wearing. 

“Where could he have gone?” Virgil asked quickly. Roman’s eyes searched the people around him. “It’s not like him to run off by himself.” 

“No. Unless…” Roman trailed off for a moment. 

“Virgil Morris. So very nice to see you again,” A voice purred from behind them. Roman turned around and held out his arm, pushing Virgil behind him. 

“Deceit,” Roman said, his own voice clipped.

Deceit grinned, his eyes flicking to the arm Roman was using to hide Virgil. “Roman. I never thought you’d be remotely interested in switching to COTECH. Yet here you are.”

“I’m not making any sort of decision until I’m sure it’s the right choice,” Roman said after a pause. 

“I can see that. I do wonder, though, why did you decide to bring along your charge if you’re not certain of your choice?” Roman blinked. 

“If I do see the merit in your organization, then I will turn him in to COTECH as a show of my loyalty.”

“And if not?”

“Then I will take him to a place where you will never find him. Trust me, I know many.” Deceit smiled a polite, but empty smile. 

“Then I hope we can convince you tonight, Deceit said, moving to walk past both of them. He stopped next to Virgil. “Oh, and Virgil?”

“What?” Deceit leaned down to whisper in Virgil’s ear.

“ _Choose your allies wisely_ ,” he said. Although it was little over a whisper, Virgil was somehow able to hear each syllable clearly. When Deceit leaned back, he had his fake smile on again and he swiftly walked back towards the big crowds. 

Roman looked at Virgil incredulously. “What did he just say to you?”

“He said, ‘Choose your allies wisely.’ I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean.”

“I think he’s trying to win you over. After I said I would give you up to COTECH, he probably assumed you felt betrayed. Or used. My question is, why did he let us off so easily? There aren’t many people here, surely he could take us away right now and be done with it.”

  
  
“Protocol, probably. This is an event where they’re trying to get RIIS agents to join so they can get more intel. If they do anything to damage that already-tarnished reputation, they’ll be done for. If they didn’t let us off easy, they’d risk losing a ton of people.” Roman nodded. 

“Let’s hope that’s right.”

——

Logan was able to hear the din of the gala from the wall to his right. In the dim lighting that this back hallway provided, he could only see a couple of feet ahead of him. It was all blank walls for the most part, with an old red-carpeted floor. 

It didn’t help to muffle out the sound of footsteps behind him. 

Logan could hear it distinctly: whoever this person was, they weren’t great at hiding their footsteps. 

_Inexperienced. 72 kilograms, judging by the sound. No dragging sound in the steps; they don’t have any notable physical ailments in their legs. Not that—_

_Wait a second. Is that…humming?_

Indeed, whoever was following him seemed to be humming something. An upbeat tune. All that Logan could think of were those horror movies he had been forced to watch during his years at RIIS’s academy. He turned around to wait for the suspect, reaching to the spot that normally held a gun out of habit. Of course, nothing was there, and he was forced to wait with his hands in front of him as his pursuer rounded the corner—

“Patton?” His hands dropped to his side. Patton stopped and looked up. 

“Logan?” He whispered. “Logan!!” Patton ran forward and enveloped the surprised Logan into a deep embrace. His balance wavered as he registered the sudden physical contact, before returning the embrace. 

“It’s good to see you, Patton.”

“I thought you were dead,” Patton choked out. 

“No, they have to keep me alive. I—I had to make a deal with them,” Logan said, pulling away from the hug. 

“What kind of deal?”

“They—they knew where you were. Had guns trained on you guys at every moment when you stepped out of your hotel rooms. If I don’t do what they ask, they’ll kill you.” Logan’s hands dropped to his sides. Patton gave him a look of concern, causing Logan to look away. “You…you need to go. If they see me with you, you won’t have a chance to survive. I need to get you out of here, Patton. Wait. How _did_ you get in here?”

“I thought I saw you walk through that secret door thingy, so I followed you.”

“Patton, what if that hadn’t been me?” Patton furrowed his brows, confused. “You—you could have died, if you were following the wrong person. Did you come alone, or is Roman here as well?”

“Roman and Virgil are both here. Well, not _here_ here, but they’re here.” Logan’s fists tightened. 

“That _absolute idiot,_ ” Logan muttered. “He brought you all _here_? He should have taken you as far away as he could have, while they’re not paying as much attention. I’m going to kill Roman when I see him.”

“Uh…at least he’s keeping an eye on Virgil?” Patton shrugged.

“Perhaps there is that, but he didn’t exactly do a good job of keeping an eye on you, did he?” Logan sighed. “I’m…I’m just glad you found me. And not someone else.” 

“Me too,” Patton grinned. They held each other’s smiles for a moment before Logan snapped out of it. 

“If you go back the way you came you should be fine. Go quickly. Don’t let COTECH see you until you’re far enough away from the door that they won’t notice anything unusual.”

“Logan?”

“Yes?”

“I—I just…Stay safe, please.” Logan gave him a small smile. 

“As you wish.”

——

Roman and Virgil watched the goings-on of the gala from the edge of the main hall, looking for an sign of Patton or Logan. Roman had spotted some of his most notable adversaries amongst old and fellow RIIS agents. The one exception was Remus—and Roman wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing. 

A waiter came by with a tray of champagne. Roman took a glass, and Virgil reluctantly followed, fiddling with the edge of his suit jacket all the while. 

“Virgil, take a deep breath. The COTECH agents will know something’s wrong if they see you acting this nervous,” Roman said, taking a sip of the champagne without looking at Virgil. “What is putting you on edge the most right now?”

“Uh…the feeling that everyone’s watching me. Because they’re all spies, right?”

“Most of them. However, there are a couple of reporters. And passers-by who stole an invitation and thought it would be funny. And yes, although they are all spies, there are only five people watching us at this moment.” Roman turned on his shoulder to face Virgil, hitting him with one of his most dazzling smiles. “Smile like I just told you a funny story.” Virgil did so, finding it hard to do anything else. He was starting to get pulled in by the cheekbones and the smell of Roman’s cologne. “Man in the all-white suit. Second floor, edge of the balcony. He’s fake-talking with the woman in the dark green dress, also watching you. Woman in a black dress. Frills on the sleeves. She’s standing against the wall on the opposite side of the room. The person in purple, talking with the man in the blue tuxedo. Man in the blue is clueless and probably falling for them. Finally, the woman in the shimmering silver dress, by the base of the steps.” Roman let out a laugh, and Virgil followed suit. Roman blushed a little, having only heard Virgil’s laugh a couple of times. It was quite enchanting, even if it was fake.

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse!” Virgil said in between fake giggles. “As a side note, how are you supposed to drink champagne? I haven’t had any sort of alcohol in a really long time.”

“Well, first step, don’t swirl the glass. If you swirl it, it’ll go flat pretty fast. Thanks to Logan for telling me that _after_ the fact while we were in the academy. Secondly, take really small sips. If you take the glass, you have to drink it, but take your time. The smaller the sip, the less likely you are to taste it. Third, don’t make a face when you taste it. Just act like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

Virgil took a sip and smiled. “This is the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted. I have just decided.” Roman grinned.

“Yeah, it’s really bad.” Suddenly, his eyes flicked up to the top of the stairs and his smile faltered a bit. “We need to leave.”

“Why?” 

“Remus is here.” Virgil’s hands went cold. “Let’s go underneath the stairs. There probably is a place we can hide there. At least we’ll be out of his line of sight.” 

They began to move their way along the edges of the gala hall. Roman could feel the eyes on his back, but he kept pretending to be telling stories to Virgil, which seemed to satisfy the spies. Once he was sure to be out of eyesight of each of his followers, he grabbed Virgil’s arm and ducked into the space under the staircase. By then, he had finished off his champagne flute and stored it safely in a shadowy corner of the steps. Virgil’s glass was still mostly full, and Roman exchanged a silent glance with him before plucking it out of his hands and downing the rest of it. When he put the glass down, he was blinking rapidly and an alcohol-induced blush dusted his face. Virgil looked at him in awe. 

“RIIS’s academy teaches you many things,” Roman whispered in explanation. He grabbed Virgil’s hand again and led him across the back of the marble staircase, which was lined with a couple of inconspicuous doors. Roman chose one and tugged Virgil inside, locking it behind them.

Once Roman got his bearings, he realized the room was much smaller than he had expected. It was a broom closet, to be precise. 

“Was anyone following us?” Virgil asked, trying to ignore the fact that he had just been locked into a tiny room with his crush. The only upside Virgil could see was that the darkness would obscure his blush. 

“No. We lost them once we got behind the stairs.”

“That’s good.” There was a beat of silence before Virgil added, “Thanks for finishing the champagne for me. I have no idea how you did that.”

“No problem. It’s mostly my training; they teach agents to have a high alcohol tolerance so that we can’t get drunkenly coerced into revealing important information.” 

“How long were you training for?”

“I started when I graduated high school, then for another four years after that. I met Logan while I was there.” Virgil nodded, forgetting that Roman was unable to see his features. Suddenly, the image of waking up in Roman’s bed flashed through his mind, and Virgil realized that there was a thick tension between the two of them. A tension that he needed to break. 

“Roman?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I know this is probably a weird time to ask, but…did we sleep together last night?” 

Roman froze up. _He wants to do this_ now _? I thought it was going to be at least another week before he mentioned it. Oh no. What the hell am I supposed to say? Just tell him that I love him and get it over with? This is bad. Why are you freezing up, Roman? Come on, you have to say something!_

“Yes. We—we did,” Roman said, his voice much softer than he expected.

“How did it happen?” Virgil said slowly. 

“I, uh…I believe you asked me. And I said yes. And I know that you pr—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” Roman breathed.

“Why did you say yes?” Virgil could feel the heat rising on his face, so much that he couldn’t even look at Roman’s silhouette. The hesitation in Roman’s response only heightened the tension in the small space. 

“Because I…because…” Roman took a deep, shaky breath. The next thing he felt was Virgil’s hand on his face. In a second, Virgil’s lips were on his, leaving no question about the words that had gone unsaid. Roman wrapped one arm around Virgil’s waist and the other on the back of Virgil’s head, deepening the embrace. The initial shock wore off and was replaced by the sensation of butterflies; but instead of being in his stomach, they were fluttering across his entire body, dancing on his skin, flitting over his cheeks. He breathed in every scent, every sensation from the move. Virgil finally allowed his hands to wander through Roman’s hair. It was softer than he could have imagined. 

_And the cheekbones_ …

Virgil pulled away from the kiss for a second to catch his breath, and an overwhelming sensation of joy filled his chest. Roman seemed to read this, as he pulled Virgil forward by his tie and pressed his lips to Virgil’s once more. 

This time, it didn’t really matter if their cologne smelled the same. 

——

“Thank you for coming to this event tonight,” Deceit said, projecting his voice so the entire gala could hear. “Without further ado, let us commence our first signing. If we can have eight _former_ RIIS agents come forward, please?” 

A group of agents walked up the stairs, stopping at the platform that split the difference between the first and second floors. A table had been set up on this platform, with eight seats uniformly placed along the table. An attendant directed each of the agents as Deceit continued. 

“For years, this agency has developed a reputation of being corrupt and unruly. However, the truth has finally come to light. These eight brave agents behind me are testament to the fact that COTECH is an organization dedicated to the betterment of our world. Agents, if you will: pick up your pens and sign off on your official documents of transfer, thereby pledging your loyalty to COTECH.”

Deceit watched with pride as his first eight agents signed off on the forms. Each agent stood up, and the hall filled with applause. 

Logan stood on the edge of the hall, watching carefully. _This is not good. This is really, really, not good._

——

Roman pulled away from their kiss slowly, trying to take in every second of what had just happened. 

“So all this time…you did actually like me,” Virgil giggled to himself. 

“I thought that was fairly obvious after the fact that I let you sleep with me, but yes,” Roman grinned, pushing back his now-messy hair. 

“Oh, come ON!” A voice suddenly sounded from outside. Roman heard the muffled sound of a gun with a silencer on it, and then the lock on the door broke off. The door was yanked open by none other than Remus and a couple of guards flanking his side. “I thought things would get more exciting than _that_! Spice it up in the broom closet, if you have to do anything there.” Virgil’s face went red as he imagined just what that might entail. 

“Leave him alone, Remus.”

“Oh wow. Keep on that brave face, it might be a turn on for your boyfriend over there. You three,” He called his guards forward. “Take care of this RIIS agent. Bring him to the main hall with everyone else. I’ll take Virgil myself.”

Virgil’s stomach dropped. _This man was the man that cut my leg and broke my ankle. This man…has done horrible things._

_And he’s about to do more._

The three guards approached Roman and managed to overwhelm him after a large scuffle. It took two guards holding his arms behind him, and a third holding his head, to push him to his knees and disarm him. From there, Remus swiftly latched on to Virgil’s arm; ragged nails digging into Virgil’s skin. Virgil cried out in pain as he was tugged along, away from Roman, who was barley being held down by the guards. 

Eventually Virgil and Remus reached a hidden elevator at the back of the building. Remus practically shoved Virgil inside, making sure the doors closed before he released Virgil’s hand. 

“Say anything and you’ll get matching scars on your other leg, got it?” Remus growled. Virgil nodded reluctantly as he was taken up to an unknown fate. 

When they reached the next door, Remus latched onto Virgil’s arm again, and the doors opened to an impatient-looking Deceit. 

“Come on, we’ve gotten two signings out of the way and the crowd is waiting for our next presentation. Let’s get moving. Virgil, a pleasure to see you again.” 

Remus dragged Virgil across the upper floor and to the opening of the stairs, with Deceit following close behind. The masses of people at the gala crowded at the base of the steps, none brave enough to climb them and try to defend the man. Roman pushed his way out of the guard’s arms and to the front of the group, watching in terror as they forced Virgil to his knees and pulled up his head so he could observe the crowd. Virgil wriggled his arms around, trying to break free from Remus's grasp. Remus seemed to fumble for a moment before regaining his grip. Even from that great distance, Roman could see the pained expression; the fear in Virgil's eyes as he was presented to the entire gala like a sacrifice. 

_It was just like Adam—right before he was murdered_. Another pang of fear blasted its way through Roman’s mind. 

“This,” Deceit said proudly to the crowds, “This is Virgil Morris. An ordinary man; not a RIIS agent at all. So, you might be wondering, what is he doing here? Why is he so _special_? Well, you see, this man was plucked from his daily life by a RIIS agent. That agent is here tonight, I believe.” Deceit’s face turned to stare directly at Roman, a smirk appearing on his face. “And tonight he will be proving the weakness of that very organization.” Roman balled his fists, but said nothing. Deceit glanced at Remus, before making a small flicking gesture with his first two fingers. On cue, Remus shoved Virgil down the steps. 

As soon as he was out of COTECH’s grasp, Roman’s façade broke. “VIRGIL!” He yelled as Virgil’s head his the marble steps. Roman ran up the steps to meet him, ignoring the glances he received from RIIS and COTECH agents alike. Virgil finally managed to jab his shoulder into the ground and break his tumble. The agent was quickly able to close the distance between the two of them, and he knelt on the steps next to Virgil. The latter man blinked a couple of times as if to reorient himself before Roman reached out and pulled him up into a hug. 

“Are you alright?” He murmured into Virgil’s ear. 

“Yeah. I think so.” 

“I saw you hit your head. Is there any pain there, like you might have a concussion?” Roman said quickly, one eye trained on the COTECH agents watching from the second floor. 

“No. No pain. In fact…I think I realize why they pushed me,” Virgil said slowly, his voice unreadable.

“Why?” 

Virgil tilted his head in so his lips hovered just on Roman’s ear. Roman could feel the warmth of Virgil’s breath on his hair, bringing all of his senses to life as Virgil prepared his next words. 

“Because I was one of them.”

Before he could even register that thought, Virgil reached back with his right hand and thrust a knife into Roman’s abdomen, pulling it out just as swiftly as he pushed Roman backwards. Roman, in his shock, searched Virgil’s eyes for any hint of explanation and found nothing except a twisted sort of grin as the crowds below them began to scatter and panic. 

Roman stumbled backwards, a hand pressed to the wounded area. He watched as Virgil lifted the blade and examined the blood running across the silver, his eyes alight with a sick fascination that Roman had never seen before. Virgil turned his back on Roman and made his way up the steps to Remus and Deceit, without a second glance. 

Despite the commotion from below, Roman could hear every click of Virgil’s shoes on the marble stairs as he walked straight into COTECH’s arms.

Roman tripped on a step and fell down a couple of steps before warm hands pulled him up again, guided him out and away from the building. The rest of the world passed by in blurry motions; unimportant. Virgil’s face, that twisted expression, haunted Roman even when his eyes were open. It was burned into his vision. His stomach churned at the thought of how much information he had given away. How he _trusted_ Virgil. How he lo—

No. 

There could be no going back now. 


	13. Strange Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BEGIN PART II
> 
> Virgil gets reacquainted with his old life. Roman begins plotting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe...I, uh...I see you've been...uh...enjoying that last chapter, huh? heh...
> 
> as an apology gift for breaking all y'all's hearts in 7 words, here's an early mini chapter for you. Hopefully this eases the recovery process.
> 
> Warnings: One (1) curse word  
> Suggestive themes towards the end

**FILE— > AGENTS —> VIRGIL MORRIS—> PROFILE**

VIRGIL MORRIS

Age: 29

Born: 19 December 1990

Sex: Male

Gender: Male

Marital Status: Single

CAREER: training from age 17, field work since age 22

Specialties: Knife throwing, daggers, stealth*, extraction & sabotage missions

*See director’s notes for more details on stealth achievements

**FILE — > AGENTS—> VIRGIL MORRIS —> DIRECTOR’S NOTES**

DIRECTOR’S NOTES ON VIRGIL MORRIS

Agent Morris is highly capable in the field. In his seven years of field work, he has never once been caught nor noticed by a single RIIS agent. His stealth is top tier. He has managed to slip into RIIS facilities many times undetected. In terms of his missions, he is the method actor of the spy world—in all his long-term field missions where he has to interact with RIIS agents, he laces his own medicine with a memory serum specially formulated by our agents at COTECH. It guarantees the protection of our information whilst making him seem completely innocent. 

Virgil Morris is a very accomplished agent at COTECH. He is dedicated, strong, and very capable in the field. I recommend his assignment to solo operation stealth missions, specifically extraction and sabotage.

SIGNED,

DIRECTOR OF COTECH AFFAIRS

**FILE — > AGENTS—> VIRGIL MORRIS —> MISSIONS OVERVIEW**

MISSION OVERVIEW

Total Missions count: 261 missions

Current Mission: Data extraction—RIIS Identification*

—>Status: In Progress

*See Current Mission File for more details

**FILE — > CURRENT MISSIONS —> VIRGIL MORRIS**

MISSION DEBRIEF

This is an extraction mission with the goal of stealing the identification of agents in the organization known as RIIS. All their data is held in secure online files, which will require a talented hacker or sabotage expert to open. Must be done swiftly, so RIIS cannot trace the location of the information. A data chip with the information stored on it must be hidden securely and delivered to COTECH authority upon arrival. If detected, mission will become an extraction mission (with probable ambush by RIIS field agents). 

This information will help to regain the status of COTECH as an agency and therefore must be treated with the utmost care. For this, Director of COTECH Affairs has agreed to pay $80.00 per profile obtained to the missions operative if they are successful. 

Assigned to: AGENT VIRGIL MORRIS

Start date: 23 July 2019

Completion date: N/A

**FILE— > CLOSE**

\----

“It’s always a little disorienting to recover from those memory impairment missions. Thank you, Janus,” Virgil said, shutting the screen on Janus’s laptop. 

“Anything for a friend. So how was the mission? After you extracted the identification you went completely dark. I know you’re very capable, but I was honestly a bit worried,” Janus said, putting a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder. 

“It was wild. My memory right after I extracted the information is still a little foggy, but I basically infiltrated the file network of RIIS and inserted my own profile--so they’d think I was a normal citizen with a random hacking ability. I’m just shocked they actually believed the files. I didn’t even try with them,” Virgil laughed. “So then some random RIIS agent tried to extract me, like, the next day, and then you guys showed up.”

“And Remus carved that _abomination_ into your leg.”

“Honestly, I don’t mind. Not too much, anyways. It definitely upped the sympathy points on this poor agent. He actually _fell in love with me_ , can you believe that?”

“He _did?_ ” 

“Yeah, Remus saw us making out in a closet, too. He totally fell for my cover story. All ‘nope, nothing suspicious about a dude who has a tiny profile and random bursts of violence when he’s off his meds for too long.’ In hindsight I thought he might at least be suspicious, but _this?_ ” Virgil cackled, and Janus joined in. 

“You need to tell me _everything_ about this. It sounds absolutely _hilarious_ ,” Janus roared. “Plus, being Remus’s babysitter for too long has left me in need of a good mission story.”

“I’ll tell you everything. But I might need some rest first to make sure the effects have worn off completely. And for Remus pushing me down the stairs.” 

“Fair enough. Let’s grab lunch tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. By this time, the pair had reached Virgil’s room in the barracks of COTECH’s main facility. Virgil opened his door, said a quick goodbye to his friend, and shut it behind him. 

He breathed out a heavy sigh to his small room. He felt the strangest hint of sadness in his core, but brushed it off as a side effect of the memory serum wearing off. 

_You just need to sleep. It’s late now, and it’s been a crazy day. Go to sleep and tomorrow you’ll feel better._

Reluctantly, he followed his mind’s urging, changing out of his suit and ankle brace and into sleep clothes. The room was fairly cold by this time, so he moved quickly to get into his bed. 

Oddly enough, the bed felt even colder. 

——

“Roman, let me do it,” Logan said patiently. 

“I’m fine.”

“Your hands are shaking.” 

“I’m fine, Logan. I’ve done this a hundred times,” Roman said, pulling a needle through the stab wound. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but there remained a lot of dry blood around it that was making it hard to see where he was supposed to be sewing. He started to move to make the next stitch, but his hand began shaking even more. Logan gently took the needle away from him and began stitching up the rest of the wound. Roman leaned backward on the chair he had been sitting in, forcing back tears as Logan pulled the wound closed. Afterwards, Logan left to grab some water and cloth so he could finish cleaning the wound. When he came back, Roman was staring off into the ceiling. 

“I trusted him,” He whispered. 

“I know.”

“I kissed him.” Logan hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“You didn’t know.”

“I _should have_ , Logan. That’s what I’m supposed to be _good at_. Planning for every possible option. I should have planned for this. I shouldn’t have trusted him. And then I just watched him walk into COTECH’s arms.” Logan stayed silent for a moment. 

“I don’t think he knew, either.”

“What?”

“I saw the way he looked at you. Before. There was something there.”

“Malice. Evil. He’s a COTECH agent, he was lying to me to get information out of me.”

“No. He genuinely _did not know_. My specialty is micro expressions, and I would have picked up on something by now if he was not being genuine. I suspect it had something to do with a memory serum.”

“But…there’s no memory serum that can last that long. Not on its own. Not so completely.”

“He could have incorporated it into his daily regimen somehow.”

“But how would he do that without knowing he was doing it?” Logan paused for a moment. 

“Roman. The _anxiety medication_ must have done it. It would have been part of his daily routine until after Patton gave him the last pill. Then—”

“Then the effects slowly wore off, leaving Virgil disoriented and with some sort of double-personality. Logan, that’s—”

“Calm down. You’re going to break open the stitches before I even finish,” Logan interrupted, quickly tying off the end of his medical thread.

“Sorry. But…that would mean that Virgil is…”

“He’s a COTECH spy who temporarily forgot about who he was, yes.”

“No! I mean, yes, but I was going for the fact that Virgil is _redeemable_. Take away the agent and there’s something good there.” Roman watched as Logan crossed the room again to wash his hands and the blood-soaked rag. 

“Perhaps. But the problem is with taking away the agent. How would you do that without forcing him into a life of memory serums?”

“I…I have to seek him out. Make him understand that what he’s doing is wrong.”

“He just _stabbed_ you, Roman. I think you should wait on that one.”

“No, I have to do this. Before he moves on and forgets and it’s too late for him. What information do we have on Virgil as a spy?” Logan pushed up his glasses. 

“None. The information you got in your file when you first started the mission was all we have.”

“But…that file wasn’t even accurate.”

“Exactly. Which means that Virgil is only seen when he wants to be seen. We had no idea this guy existed before tonight.” Roman sighed, looking off towards the window of Logan’s hotel room. After the events of that evening, Logan had arranged to get another hotel room nearby with the same outfitting as that one had had. He knew it wasn’t safe for them at the other place anymore. Who knew what was laying in wait just outside those walls, anyways?

“How do you find a person like that?” Roman finally asked, only half aware of his surroundings. 

“You don’t. They find you.”

——

Virgil was glad to be back in his old room. When he woke up that morning, he was finally able to dress in his traditional outfit again: this included lightweight black pants with a black shirt of the same material, black fingerless gloves, and a fitted black overcoat with long sleeves going up to his wrists. The cape-like part of the coat came down to his calves. There were laces in the front that could be done up so the coat made less noise in the wind. And, of course, Virgil donned his black eyeshadow under his eyes to complete the outfit. He knew it was an eccentric look, but it was what he was known for at COTECH. All-black, always hidden. An outfit that always concealed at least five knives. 

He had a reputation to uphold, after all. 

Virgil left the room with an air of authority that he had not wielded since he left on his last mission. The agents around him noticed. Even Janus raised an eyebrow in approval when he met Virgil for lunch.

“I knew there was something missing from your look. And what a _classic!_ You wore that on our joint mission to Croatia, didn’t you?”

“I did. Glad you noticed. I figured it would be a good way to really get back into character. Plus, all the best agents here seem to dress on the eccentric side, don’t we?” It was true, Janus had his fair share of unusual outfits, mostly composed of black with yellow highlights (“ _It brings out my eyes,_ ” Janus had once told Virgil).

“Indeed. Shall we?” Janus gestured to the little table in the cafe they had met at. The place was owned and run by COTECH agents, so no one gave them a sideways glance for their odd attire when they came into the restaurant. Virgil sat, kicking his feet up onto the third unoccupied chair. “So tell me all about this RIIS agent. I need to know _everything._ ”

“Well, for starters, I should probably confess that memory-drug me was really, _really_ attracted to him.”

“Totally understandable. I mean, have you seen the dude’s cheekbones? Goddamn.” Virgil’s face flushed red with the memory of his… _close proximity_ to those very cheekbones. “I mean, is he even real?”

“Yeah. They were pretty, uh,” Virgil cleared his throat. “Pretty neat. Anyways, after we got away from your so-called COTECH safe house—very clever staging, I might add—he carried me to another agent’s house. Dude named Logan.”

“Wait, he _carried_ you? Like, bridal-style?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know how much I wish I was in your shoes right now? To have some _supermodel_ fall head over heels for me? Meanwhile I had to deal with _Remus_. Not the most fun job.”

“To be fair, Remus has been falling head over heels for y—“

“NOPE, nope, nope, nope. We’re not going to acknowledge that. Not until he takes a shower, at least,” He added under his breath. Virgil raised a brow. 

“Anyways, then we slept over at Logan’s place, and in the morning…” Virgil cut off, remembering his encounter with shirtless-Roman. _How the hell did I not realize…_

“Yes…?”

“Sorry. I walked in on Roman shirtless and then w—“

“ _Virgil_ , you can’t just _do_ that to me! You walked in on him shirtless? What did he look like?” Janus said. It crossed Virgil’s mind that Janus must have been very, very bored while he was gone. 

“Uh. I didn’t exactly see it that time. But the other time he looked pretty fit.”

“YOU SAW HIM SHIRTLESS _TWICE_??” Janus looked like he was about to explode. 

“Yup.” Virgil looked at his nails, trying to avoid looking at Janus, who would only coax out his blush further. 

_You have a reputation to uphold, Virgil. Can’t get caught pining over some supermodel RIIS agent now._

“You are beyond lucky, I hope you know that. So when did he confess his feelings for you?” 

“At the gala. After I kissed him,” Virgil said calmly.

“ _You_ kissed _him_?”

“Yep. Memory serum me, remember?” Virgil’s hand twitched under the table. A waiter came by and took their order. When he was out of earshot again, Virgil resumed. “Hopefully the knife made it clear that I was cutting it off.”

“I’m sure it did. And nice pun,” Janus smirked. “I wonder, though, if he will attempt to see you again?”

“No,” Virgil said as the waiter returned and handed Virgil a chai tea latte. “It’s never happened before. They usually just fade away and I never see them again. Why should it be any different this time?” Virgil shrugged. His eye twitched. 

“I suppose it shouldn’t. And probably for the best, we don’t need any RIIS agents trying to track you down. Wouldn’t end well for them,” Janus added. Virgil’s phone suddenly buzzed, and he picked it up. 

“Looks like I’ve got another mission queued.”

“Already? We’ve barely had you back.”

“Huh. I guess so. And it’s starting in just a couple of hours.”

“That’s quite unusual. What’s the mission?”

“Looks like I’ve got to steal some documents from some high rise down by the RIIS headquarters. Pretty simple mission, though. I’m surprised they want _me_ to do it.”

“The documents must be pretty important.”

“For sure. In that case, I should probably get ready. I left my lock pick in the barracks.” Janus nodded, standing with Virgil and waving him goodbye. Virgil walked out into the alleyway behind the shop. 

As part of his training, he had memorized the alleyway connections he could use to travel through the city unseen by day. It was a small part of his ever-expanding art of stealth. He set off running, shrouded by the shadows of the alleys. 

_Travel light. Travel fast. And, most importantly…always stay alert._

—-

Virgil’s meeting with the Director was short—as usual. The Director liked to keep things concise. Who could blame him? He had a lot on his hands, managing the affairs of an entire agency. However, by the time Virgil was ready to begin the mission, nighttime had already fallen. Virgil climbed to the roof of the facility and squatted on the edge, overlooking the city. 

He recalled a similar view just two nights ago, from the hotel room. The lights of cars passing by; the ever-colorful city by night…and Roman, the restless spy whose sleep was scarred by nightmares. 

Virgil blinked twice. 

_He’s not special. Every spy has their demons._

A change in the wind brought Virgil’s senses to life. 

_It’s time_.

With that, he leaped off the roof. He could feel his feet gliding across the glass below them. From his belt, he grabbed a grappling hook, quickly shooting it out. The rope of the grappling hook tightened as the hook locked into place, and Virgil began to swing across the buildings. At first he felt a rush of adrenaline, before his procedural memory kicked in. He swooped across buildings, launching forward and onto another roof. He rolled to break his fall, and slid forward a couple of feet until he reached the roof’s edge. 

He smirked to himself. The memories came flooding back of every joyride, every mission, every time he’d scaled up a building or across town on a grappling hook. 

Without a second glance, he jumped again. 

The world whizzed by in muted blacks and greys beside him as he flew past. Below, the music of the city floated gently to meet him, blended with the sound of wind rushing past his ears. His vision became clear, his senses alive. His mind was blank except for thoughts of his mission. 

‘ _I will do anything I can to keep you safe.’_

Virgil’s hand slipped on the grappling hook. 

“SHIT!” He flipped upwards, arms flailing, before tumbling onto a gravel roof. He landed on his back, breathing heavily. The grappling hook, barely in his hand, recoiled into itself. He shook his head. _Snap out of it, Virgil. You have a mission._ He stood up, brushing off the dust from a rough landing. He looked down over the edge of the roof. 

_Well, at least you got the right building_ , he thought as he stuck the grappling hook back onto his belt. _What floor was the apartment on again? Right. Floor 26._

He jumped down so his hands were grasping the edge of the roof, and began to climb down towards floor 26. Once he got there, he balanced on the ledge of the apartment complex and gently picked the lock on the window. Without a sound, he slid inside and landed on the floor. 

The first sense he felt when he landed on the floor of the room was that there was someone else in there with him. Unaware of him for now, but there. He had to act quickly. 

Slowly he lowered himself to a more defensible position, pulled up his hood, and took stock of the room. There was a safe sitting in the opposite corner, the files would be there. There were three places where city lights streamed in to the dark room. As he stole across the room, he avoided those spots, dancing within the shadows. 

The safe was easy enough to break into, and Virgil sensed that the other person in the room hadn’t noticed him yet. He quickly found the files and closed the safe, drifting back towards the window. Halfway across, the other person stirred. Virgil stiffened, listening. After waiting for a minute, he continued his movements. It was another minute yet before he reached the window side of the room. He held still for a second before—-

A gunshot whistled past Virgil’s ear and shattered the window behind him. His head snapped to see the person he had disturbed— _crap. He saw me_. A man moved forward, handgun aimed at Virgil. 

“Don’t move unless you want to die.” Virgil froze, but nor for the reason the man stated. Petty threats couldn’t stop Virgil—but ghosts of his past could. As the man stepped into the light, Virgil recognized Roman’s wavy hair and the definition of his cheekbones; heightened by the shadows that were cast upon his face. His normally slow heart rate began to increase rapidly. “Do as I say, and do it slowly: Stand up and take off your hood so I can see your face.”

Virgil slowly uncurled himself from his position near the ground. He opened up his feet so his stance was more grounded. After a moment’s hesitation, he lifted his hands and tugged off his hood. Roman took a half step back, caught off balance. His eyes widened as he saw Virgil in full; a shadowy hint of a memory that Roman couldn’t shake. Sensing an exit strategy, Virgil leaped into the air, grabbing the gun out of Roman’s hands as he flipped over Roman to the window ledge. It crossed Virgil’s mind how different he must look to Roman now—Last Roman saw was an anxious man dressed up in a suit of purple and black, weak and unable to defend himself. And now…now Roman saw a silent agent; strong, agile, and a completely different mystery to solve. A man shrouded in darkness, who travels in shadows without a trace. 

Virgil shook it off and prepared to leave, but Roman moved fast, grabbing Virgil’s hand before he could make a safe escape. 

“Virgil. Wait.” Virgil turned his head around but said nothing. 

Roman saw his purple-tipped hair blow in the wind, eyes unreadable as they had been the day Virgil left. 

“Please. Don’t go,” He whispered. 

“How’s that stab wound doing?” Virgil said, voice rough. His eyes flicked down to Roman’s abdomen, and he saw a small red stain on his loose-fitting white shirt. Roman’s expression fell, but he recovered quickly.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here on a mission, Princey. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“What did you take?”

“Nothing you’ll be needing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should be going.” Roman’s hand tightened over Virgil’s. Roman held fast, walking backwards into his room. An idea formed in Virgil’s head, and he allowed himself to be pulled back into the room, tossing aside the handgun. His other hand met Roman’s, and Virgil narrowed the distance between them. 

The two figures flitted in and out of the light until Virgil grew impatient. He took both of Roman’s hands in one of his and pushed him against the wall of the apartment. Roman felt the warmth of Virgil’s breath on his lips. _He’s toying with me._ Roman tried to move his hands from above his head, but Virgil’s grip was strong. He furrowed his brows. 

“What are you w—” 

Virgil cut him off with a kiss. Roman breathed it in; partly out of shock and partly because he wanted to make the moment last. Virgil moved his free hand to Roman’s waist.

His hand stopped moving abruptly, though, when he felt something other than Roman’s shirt. 

_Blood. The stab wound is completely opened._

He pulled his lips back from Roman’s, causing Roman to lean forward in anticipation. Even just with the moonlight, Virgil could see his flushed cheeks and hooded eyelids. 

“How long have you been waiting for me?” Virgil whispered. 

“All day. I thought you would come sooner.” 

“Why were you expecting me to come?” Roman’s eyes flicked to the side.

“I know you’re feeling it too, Virgil.” Virgil’s jaw tightened, and he backed away from Roman. 

“You can’t tell me what I feel. You have no idea who I am,” he snarled. 

“No. I don’t. But I want to,” Roman whispered. Virgil’s expression softened. It was such a minute change that it would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Roman saw it—and even such a small change as that caused his heart to shatter and mend at the same time. 

Virgil crossed over to the window again. “Your stitches broke. You’ll want to sew those,” he said, glancing at his bloodstained hand. Roman glanced down at his wound. When he raised his head again, Virgil was gone. He ran to the window to look for him, but it was to no avail. 

Virgil had slipped through his fingers yet again.

\----

Logan took off his glasses, and rubbed his forehead with one hand. The hotel alarm clock read midnight, which was much past Logan's preferred sleep schedule. But he knew he needed to be up late. It was the only time he had. 

He looked down at his handiwork: A letter, three pages long on a complementary hotel notepad, to Patton. He felt the guilt rise in his stomach as he read it over one last time. 

In the letter, he explained why he was leaving again. For good, this time.

_Having emotional connections means I put you all, and myself, at risk. So, in conclusion, Patton, I need to cut any connections I have. That means my friendship with you, and with Roman. I'm sorry it has to be like this, again. I'm sure you'll be upset with me, but better that then you worry about me and go looking for me. **Don't** go looking for me. You will not find me, but what you will find is danger. And death. _

_You are an amazing person. I just wish I could have been a better one. And for that I am truly sorry._

_~~With love~~ Sincerely, _

_Logan_

He couldn't stop reading the final passage. After the third time in a row, he tossed the notebook aside onto his pillow. Then, he grabbed a duffel bag from the RIIS equipment room and moved towards the door. 

"Please don't do this again," Patton called from behind him. Logan turned around to see Patton, dressed in a bathrobe with his eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Please don't do this to me."

"I'm sorry, Patton. I--I have to." 

Patton took a couple of steps to close the distance between them. "Please, Logan, you can't leave me like this. What if you get captured again?" Logan took a deep breath. 

"You'll understand soon, Patton. Plus, Roman will stay with you. He'll make sure you stay safe."

"Logan, don't you understand?" Patton said, his voice raising. Tears of frustration began to run down his face. "I don't want _him,_ I want _you._ "

"I--"

"I love you, Logan." Patton was sobbing now. Logan froze for a moment. 

"I know." He backed away from Patton, opening the door. 

"LOGAN, _PLEASE WAIT_!" Patton yelled through stinging tears. Logan shook his head and exited the hotel room, closing the door firmly behind him. He walked swiftly away, trying to block out the sound of sobbing behind him. 

_This is for his protection._

_This is for his protection._

_This is for the best._

_God, I'm so sorry, Patton._

_I'm so sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SIKE!! More angst. 
> 
> (Sorry)
> 
> Thanks for your kudos, comments, and continued support!


	14. For Blood and Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's mission comes under review, and the director of RIIS decides to send him on a test mission. Virgil struggles with morals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehEHE this took me a LONG time to write. Whoops.  
> Long story short, I wrote out an entire 6k chapter then deleted ALL of it because I didn't think it was good enough. And now we have the end result--hopefully much better lol
> 
> also, I'm trying out some new styles in the middle of the chapter, so just bear with me there lol
> 
> WARNINGS: Cursing throughout, including the F-word (be careful, youngins)  
> Out of body experience--Stop reading "Virgil fiddled with the picks once more," to "Virgil's head rocked back.."  
> Blood--some mild in the beginning, more later: Stop reading "he brushed it aside quickly," to "Roman was faring..."

_One week later._

Virgil wiped a drop of blood off the corner of his lip. 

“So we _are_ using weapons?”

“Why not?” Remus shrugged, flicking out a switchblade that had been concealed in his sleeve. Virgil smirked from his crouching position, unbeknownst to Remus. Suddenly, he sprung up, dashing to the left. He jumped and used the wall at the side of the sparring room to propel himself into Remus’s side. He landed on Remus’s back, knife pointed at the neck. Remus struggled to regain a fighting position, but Virgil latched on, digging his heels into Remus’s side.

“You owe me this one after carving COTECH into my calf. And breaking my ankle. Neither of which have fully healed, by the way.”

“Don’t stab me too hard,” Remus said as he shoved Virgil into the wall. Virgil grunted but kept his grip. “ _That_ right is reserved for my—” 

Virgil flipped the knife to the blunt end and rammed it into the area right underneath Remus’s ribs. “Don’t flirt with me,” he said jokingly as Remus tried to recover from the jab. In the process, he flipped Virgil off his back; the latter rolled a few feet before regaining his balance. 

“What, not over that Roman dude yet?” Remus said before charging Virgil. Virgil dodged to the left, but Remus was ready, and he shoved his shoulder into Vigil’s side, propelling him into the wall again. Virgil flipped towards his opponent and used an uppercut to throw him off balance.

“As if I even liked him in the first place.” Virgil slid down the wall and knocked Remus’s feet out from underneath him. Remus landed harshly on his left shoulder, but that didn’t seem to stop him from commenting.

“I saw you guys making out in a closet.”

“A fact that I am painfully aware of,” Virgil placed his foot on Remus’s knife, his other knee on his chest. 

“You’re not even going to acknowledge that he’s very, _very_ attractive?” Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“You have no basis to judge that. You’re getting desperate, man.” Remus used his leg to send the two of them tumbling again, landing with him on top. 

“Desperate? Please.” Remus chuckled. “ _You_ ’ _re_ the one that needs to loosen up, you know what I mean?” Virgil’s lips tightened into a thin line. 

“I’m not about to have sex with some agent from a rival agency. That thing you saw? That wasn’t even real,” Virgil grunted as he struggled under Remus’s grip. “You can barely even call that _me_ real.” Remus sighed, looking defeated. Virgil kneed him in the ribs and rolled out from underneath him. 

“So why do you have a problem with _me_ flirting with you? If you’re so over the RIIS agent?” 

“Because I’ve seen you eat out of a dumpster. Can’t go back after that,” he grimaced at the old memory. Virgil slid to the right as Remus ran at him again, effectively missing the brunt of the attack. However, Remus’s switchblade nicked his palm in the process. 

“You look cute when you have blood smeared all over your face,” Remus commented as he stalked forward. 

“Shut up. Literally just stop speaking for two minutes.”

“Make me.” Remus grinned devilishly.

“I swear—” Virgil grumbled as he charged for Remus, knife at the ready. 

“STOP!” A voice commanded from the entrance to the sparring room. Virgil halted instantly, his breath catching up with him.

Janus walked into the room. He wore a loose white blouse with high waisted black pants and yellow gloves. Virgil scrunched his eyebrows. _Doesn’t Janus only wear that outfit when he’s off duty? Why is he…_

“Look, while I love to see you both spar until you nearly bleed out, I’d like to avoid that today. I’m starting a new mission.”

“What mission?” Virgil relaxed the hand holding his knife and turned to fully face Janus. 

“Recon. I have to trace a RIIS agent that suddenly dropped off the face of the earth. It’ll involve planting some trackers and then I’ll be back to the base. The hardest part will be finding him.”

“What’s the name of the agent?” Remus asked, playing with his mustache. 

“Logan Fletcher.” Virgil winced, experiencing a sudden burst of pain in his forehead. He made no move in the rest of his body, but Janus noticed regardless. _He’s always been the most observant._

“Virgil, are you quite alright?” Janus said, turning his head enough for Virgil to see the burn scars on the side of his face. _He’s not covering it up today. That’s…unusual. But I can’t exactly bring it up right now._

“I’m fine. I just need to take a break from the sparring,” he said quickly. Janus glanced at him for a second more before nodding and proceeding to talk about the mission. In the meantime, Virgil went to the side of the sparring room to grab a towel, wiping the sweat off his face and shoulders. He didn’t usually show much skin within COTECH’s walls—or anywhere, for that matter—but in the sparring room, he made an exception and would sometimes wear a tank top. But only when sparring with Remus. Or Janus. Though he suspected it would be a while until he sparred with Janus again. 

“The agency has almost no leads on where this guys is. He’s managed to black out security cameras or pass invisibly through them somehow. I wanted to see if Virgil would know how it was done, considering he’s a master of stealth himself.” Virgil turned around and glanced at the two, waiting a moment before responding. 

“They used some sort of old-fashioned watch to turn of the systems. Looks old, has a lot of advanced tech packed inside. I remember Logan was able to shut off a lot of security cameras as we were passing through.” 

“Really? So he has a special watch design?”

“They all do, from what I understand.” 

“Fascinating. Maybe you should come with me, Virgil,” Janus commented. Virgil looked up at him for a moment. 

“I would, but I should probably stay here. With the rate that I’ve been getting missions assigned to me recently, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to leave. Plus, I know you do your best work alone,” Virgil said with a slight grin. Janus only nodded politely. 

“Thank you, Virgil. I best be off, then. Please don’t kill each other in the sparring room.”

“No promises,” Virgil responded, enveloping Janus in a hug. The latter stood there, unsure of what to do for a moment, before returning the hug. After a moment they stepped back. Janus gave Remus a curt nod and a hint of a smile before exiting the room.

“Why did _you_ get a hug?” Remus whined. 

“I’m pretty sure Janus’s not going to touch you until you take that shower, buddy.” Remus sighed in defeat. 

“Shall we continue, then?” he responded eventually. 

“We shall.”

——

“Agent Phillips, as I am sure you understand already, you have been called here today to review your most recent mission.”

“Yes, sir.” Roman sat down slowly, his eyes downcast. This day had not been a day he had looked forward to. Mission reviews were only administered to do a comprehensive search and see if any vital information had been leaked. As it was, he was highly suspect after he reported the stolen case file on Virgil. The review board, comprised of five higher level agents, was bound to find something suspicious in the nature of his relationship with his charge. They were always thorough. 

“I reviewed the transcript from your last mission report,” A woman wearing a bright red shirt spoke up from the end of the table. “It says here the mission was a failure because…” she trailed off, waiting for Roman to finish.

“The charge defected to COTECH. It seemed he was previously unaware of his relationship to the agency but he somehow regained his memory.” Two of the agents on the panel looked at each other with concern.

“Now it says here that agent Fletcher was the one who radioed this in, not you. Why was this?”

“I was incapacitated at the moment.”

“How?”

“The charge stabbed me in the abdomen after regaining his memories.” Roman’s voice shook, but he took a deep breath and continued. “I was still recovering, so Logan radioed it in for me. He was with me at the gala.”

“Could you display this wound to the panel, please?” Another agent asked. Roman nodded. He stood up and lifted his shirt slowly, revealing the line of stitches across the upper right part of his abdomen. The edges around the wound were still a dark red. The reviewer examined it for a moment before nodding, and Roman sat down once more. 

“Do you know the whereabouts of agent Fletcher?”

“No, sir. Agent Fletcher went dark after he radioed it in. He only left a note explaining that having attachments put him in danger.”

“Do you have this note with you now?” The woman in the red shirt asked. 

“No, sir.” Red Shirt looked at the agent at the head of the table, who wore a long sleeved black dress and a blue hijab. She nodded slowly and turned to Roman.

“Agent Phillips. I am aware that your mission was sidetracked when you were ambushed by two COTECH agents. Could you explain for the panel what happened during this detour?”

“Yes, sir. I was trying to find out what the subject knew about the chip I was searching for. He didn’t seem to remember anything about said chip. As I was trying to persuade him to work with me, the agents ambushed us and tried to take Vi—tried to take the charge away. I identified the one as a COTECH agent named Remus, and the other as the one we labelled ‘Deceit.’ They used knockout gas and took us to some sort of safe house. They broke the ankle of the charge and carved the word ‘COTECH’ into his calf to keep him from escaping, but we managed to escape regardless. They seemed to be preparing to cut the chip out of him before we left.”

“So despite these acts of violence against him, the charge still returned to COTECH?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was your relationship to the charge?” Roman thought of kissing Virgil in the back room of the gala house, but quickly dismissed it. 

“Friendly, but purely professional,” Roman responded, hands beginning to feel clammy. 

“Why do you say friendly?”

“He didn’t hate me for protecting him. He seemed thankful for my help and willing to lay low while we were waiting for the main facility to be recovered from COTECH’s hands.”

“Were there any abnormalities in the charge’s behavior during this period?”

“The charge _did_ attack me when we were laying low at a hotel. However, I thought it was the result of the chip being implanted in his brain and malfunctioning somehow. He didn’t remember it at all.”

“Interesting,” Red Shirt said, scribbling something down in her notes. She looked to the other agents on the panel. “I will look into this further.” 

“So the charge appeared to be dealing with memory problems?” The woman in blue asked. 

“Yes, sir. At first I equated it to chip malfunctions, but now I believe it was as a result of some sort of memory drug in his anti-anxiety medication.” She nodded. 

“Alright. We will spend some time reviewing the information you have given us. Expect to hear from us in less than one week for a follow up. Agent Phillips, you are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Roman said curtly, standing up from his chair and walking quickly out of the room. As soon as he closed the door, he sighed and relaxed his shoulders. He had been tense throughout the interview, and thinking about Virgil wasn’t helping. 

_Damn it, Roman. You nearly dropped your cover at multiple spots. Why can’t you just let it go anymore?_

_Why can’t you just forget about Virgil? Forget his face. Forget his name. The mission is done, and there’s nothing you can do. Forget him._

But he couldn’t get rid of the empty pit that was forming in his stomach. Not dread, not hate, just nothing. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about how empty his bed felt. How he wasn’t getting sleep anymore. 

_If Logan was here, he’d notice the dark circles._

_Everything seems so quiet now._

Roman sighed as he left for his apartment. His workday was over; he was on mission suspension until the review board had finished assessing how much information was released. 

_However long that takes._

_I could lose my job over this. Over one stupid crush._

_Damn it._

——

The woman in the blue hijab watched as Roman closed the door to the review panel room. Once it was closed, she turned to the rest of the panel.

“He fell in love with the charge. Undoubtedly.” The other candidates nodded in agreement. 

“What do you recommend we do, Director?”

“I plan assigning him to a low stakes mission near an active COTECH mission. I want him to be planted near this…Virgil Morris. We know nothing about him and that is unacceptable. Agent Phillips could be our way to capturing him. There’s obviously still an emotional charge there. In the meantime, I would like you to assess the data we’ve received. Thank you for letting me sit in on this meeting.”

The review board stood up as she did; bidding her farewell. 

——

Logan wiped the dust off his forehead and squinted his eyes as he peered into the distance. 

The road was long. 

The silence was deafening. 

And Patton was safe. 

——

Remus lay there on the ground, his eyes closed. Virgil stood over him, panting. He took a towel to clean the sweat on his arms as he waited for Remus to come to. At this point, COTECH trainees had crowded around the windows to the sparring room. Virgil gradually became aware of this and put his coat back on.

None of the trainees had seen anyone take Remus out before. It took a lot to do it—there were only a handful of agents who could. He scoffed to himself as he remembered the hours he spent working while he was a trainee. The first day he picked up a knife for General Weapons in his first year of training. Signing the papers with his instructor when he chose it as his specialization weapon. The rigorous physical work and ballet classes he had had to do just to get his teacher to let him throw a knife. Combination throws. The classic drop-kick. Two-handed knife throwing. 

_It feels so long ago. And here I am._

Remus wheezed as he came to. Virgil spun around, prepared to fight, but he could tell Remus was done. 

“You okay?”

“Your jacket’s on,” Remus observed. His eyes darted to the window as he became aware of the trainees. “Ah.”

Virgil extended his hand and Remus took it. “Good match.”

“Indeed,” Remus grinned. “We should do this more often.”

“Sure…” Virgil said, glancing at his phone as it lit up with another notification. “If I even have time in between all these missions. Just got another one.”

“Really? The Director must be putting a lot of agents on long-terms.”

“Or they don’t trust anyone anymore.” 

“Must be. Wonder what they’ll do with all these trainees, then.” 

“I wish I knew,” Virgil muttered as they exited the room. The trainees parted for the two of them to pass by, eyes glued to Virgil and Remus. Virgil sunk into his coat. 

_Being in the spotlight isn’t really my M.O. Can’t these people look anywhere else?_

He wiped the drying blood off his lip and Remus pulled him closer to his side. For once Virgil was thankful to be walking next to the trash bastard. At least his scent warded off the newbies. 

The scene reminded him of something familiar, but he couldn’t quite place his tongue on it. He brushed it aside. 

Soon they had passed the small crowd and Remus let go of Virgil. 

“Thanks.” Remus shrugged.

“Janus always leaves some of the mom syndrome behind when he goes on a mission. Might as well use it,” He murmured, his voice returning to the normal oblivious Remus tone. 

“You seriously need to take a shower though. If for no other reason, just do it to spite Janus since he’s not here.” 

“Eh. I told Janus I wasn’t showering unless he joined me.” Virgil reeled. 

“Are you serious, man? I did _not_ need to hear that,” He said, gagging. Remus grinned evilly. 

“Suffer.” Virgil scoffed.

“Okay, I think I’m going to head to the mission debrief now. Hopefully I’ll have forgotten about this conversation by the time I’ve gotten back.” Remus grinned. 

“See you later, Virge.” Virgil froze. _Why does that sound familiar? No, shake it off, he’s going to start asking questions. Forget it._

“See ya,” Virgil said, doing a two-finger salute as they parted ways. 

As Virgil walked down the hallway, a shiver went down his spine; as if a cold pair of eyes was watching his back. He glanced behind him, but no one was there.

——

Roman’s watch buzzed. He looked down as words appeared on the seemingly-retro watch face. 

_Mission request for Agent Phillips._ He scrunched his brows as he kept reading. _Intel collected detailing a COTECH raid on a transport mission. Protect the cargo from and COTECH agents ambushing the scene._

_Accept / Deny_

Roman quickly tapped accept. 

_File transfer incoming._

There was a sudden knock on his apartment door. He opened it to an agent dressed in a grey shirt, jeans and sunglasses. They passed over a hardcopy file set as if it was the least important thing in the world and left without speaking a word. 

He closed his door. _That was quick. The delivery team is getting efficient._ With a second of hesitation, he opened the file set. They outlined street name, time, and the agents involved in the file transfer. The intel involving COTECH was not so detailed. RIIS's mole inside COTECH’s agency had been able to find that an ambush had been planned, but the name of the agent involved remained unknown. 

_This is such a low stakes mission. And it’s happening tonight._

_They’re testing me._ He sighed. These tests could last for months before he was reinstated to the level that he had been at before. 

_Perfect. Look what you’ve done to yourself now._ He studied the file a little longer before locking in the safe. With a glance at his watch, he moved to his closet and shrugged on a white and red fitted jacket—one of his favorites. 

_For good luck_ , Roman thought to himself as he headed out the door to the drop site. 

——

Janus watched from the crowded sidewalk. Logan was there, crossing to a supply store. 

He smirked. 

_Storm’s coming in, Logan. Where are you going to go?_

——

Virgil crouched between the shadows of two small buildings, watching the dynamic of the evening city. People passing by, wanting to get home. All of them oblivious to the man peering over them from the wall of the second story of a building. 

He lived off the obliviousness of the people. His best line of work was done hiding in plain sight. The darkness was the only place he could feel true calmness anymore. 

_Ah. There they are._ Virgil recognized the RIIS agents by their posture. They were alert—in a different way than any citizen could be. He licked his lips. 

_The second agent looks a lot more scared than the first one. I’ll grab the file from him once they transfer it._ His eyes locked on the target. He was fixated, ready to move at a moment’s notice, until—

—Roman glanced up from his hiding spot and directly into Virgil’s eyes. They were far away from each other, but he was absolutely certain it was him—

—staring right back at Virgil. _Roman. What the hell is Roman doing_ —

— _Here? This can’t be a coincidence. This was my test. No wonder Virgil’s name wasn’t on the file,_ Roman thought. The adrenaline built in his veins. His eyes fixed on Virgil as the man began to move—

— _out of this place._ _The mission’s compromised. I need to grab the package and get out of here._

_They were waiting for me. This is some sort of double ambush._ Virgil crossed the street, his posture returning to a casual look. He kept one eye on his targets, and the other on Roman. 

_Wait, where’d he go? Shit. Shit shit shit I lost him._ He quickened his step to reach the target, when he suddenly ran straight into— _shit._

He knew who it was before he even looked up. The cologne was the exact same as before. Quickly, the taller man gripped Virgil’s arms to keep him from running.

“Sorry about that. My bad,” Roman flashed a dazzling smile in Virgil’s direction, concealing some other emotion. Something sadder. 

“No, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Virgil said, trying to add an edge into his voice. It came out more as a waver as he became aware of the people passing around him. Roman studied his emotions; this new Virgil. Then, with incredible swiftness, he handcuffed Virgil to himself. Virgil’s eyes flicked down with a mix of shock and ire. “Are you kidding me with this?”

“Nope. You’re not getting that file.” Virgil grimaced at Roman, his upper lip curling. Roman smiled.

“I hate you.”

“Hm,” Roman said indifferently. “You can say that as much as you want to. But it’s not going to help. Now you have two ways out of this--We’re going to walk together back to my agency. You will either pretend that you don’t hate my guts—as will I—or you will be dragged behind me. Either way, we’re going to get there. And don’t try getting out of the cuffs,” Roman muttered, grasping Virgil’s wrist. “These are voice activated. So it’s not going to happen.”

Virgil glared back, not interested in a response. 

“So. What’ll it be?” 

Virgil stared for a second before an obviously forced smile appeared on his face. Roman smiled back cautiously and began leading the way back. Virgil watched his targets pass by with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

_I have to get out of here. The Director will kill me if I’m caught_. He looked down at the cuffs, subtly hidden between their two hands. _Too late for that now_.

_Or perhaps not…_

_He’s not going to fall for the kissing ploy again. But maybe if I find the access code I could unlock it._

_Unlikely. We’d be there before I could figure out what it was._

Suddenly, a memory popped back into Virgil’s head. Janus had practiced sparring in handcuffs with him. It had been intensive close combat, and Virgil had lost the match, but perhaps he could copy Janus’s movements and knock Roman out so he had some time to escape. He grimaced at the painful memory of the handcuffs digging into his skin.

_This is the only way I can get out. I can’t be captured by a rival agency._

Virgil watched the flow of people in the street. They would all be witnesses if he fought out here. No, he had to take this fight elsewhere. Elsewhere…like an alleyway. An alleyway they were about to walk past.

With a sudden thrust of his shoulder, Virgil shoved Roman into the dark alleyway, effectively obscuring them from passers by. Before Roman could recover from the initial shock, Virgil jabbed his elbow into where he thought the Roman’s stab wound would be. A pained grunt confirmed it for him. Roman stumbled backward into the wall and Virgil stood in front of him. Roman’s eyes seemed to gloss over as he looked forward; not quite into Virgil, but through him somehow. Virgil blinked as he reoriented himself. 

_Okay. Cuffs._ He inspected the outline but found none of the usual locking mechanisms. Just straight silver. _How the hell is this supposed to—_

White hot pain. Flashes in the corners of his vision. In a second, the progress Virgil made was overrun by a punch from the peeved Roman. He broke open the fresh cut that Remus had made in his skin earlier; Virgil could feel it tearing. 

Despite his surprise attack, Roman’s movements were incredibly sluggish. As Virgil recovered his ground, he noticed that the punch had put Roman off balance. He wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore, and Virgil could see it was taking a toll. Another hit from Virgil, and Roman was wobbling on his heels. His face was pale, but his eyes resolute. 

Roman punched back furiously, causing Virgil to see black dots. He tasted blood in the back of his throat. Roman tried to shove Virgil back against the wall of the alleyway, but it was a sloppy effort. His hand was on Virgil’s throat, but he nearly collapsed on top of him. Virgil shoved him off with ease, but Roman was already out cold. He fell backward onto the concrete, Virgil following close behind. He landed on top of Roman and quickly rolled off. He was panting hard from the sparring match, but _it worked_.

_I won the match. I did it._

_Okay, now I really have to get out of these. Let’s see…_ Virgil began digging through the hidden pockets of his coat, looking for some sort of lock pick. His fingers slowed as he reached the pins. 

_He looks so pale…too pale._ Virgil’s eyes drifted down towards the stab wound, where he made his first jab. 

_Oh god…_

The lower half of Roman’s shirt was already stained with blood. Virgil fiddled with the picks once more. 

_“_ ** _Save him.”_** _Virgil whirled around; suddenly free of his cuffs. Free of Roman. Where had they gone? Where was_ he _? He looked around and saw a mirror was floating in the center of a grey void. Inside, he saw a perfect reflection of himself. At least, until this Virgil began to move his lips on his own. “_ ** _Save him._** _”_

_“Who the hell are you?” Virgil growled at this other version. At this person who stole his face._

_“_ **_You know who I am.”_ **

_“No, I don’t. Who are you,” Virgil demanded._

_“_ **_You’ve been suppressing me. But you know._ ** _” Virgil squinted at his quasi-reflection and saw it all at once. Black hoodie; not the long coat that he was wearing. Purple shirt underneath. That dark eyeshadow paired with the purple hair. “_ **_Snap out of it, Virge. You need to save him.”_ **

_“Why should I listen to you? Why not just go back to suppressing you? All_ I _need is to get out of these cuffs and I’ll be good.”_

“ ** _You love him._** _”_

_“Bullshit.”  
_

_“_ **_You did once. Do it for that at least. He protected you without expecting anything in return._ ** _”_

_“He’s a RIIS agent.” Other Virgil’s face softened._

_“_ **_What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet._ ** _”_

_Virgil paused a moment. He suddenly became aware of his throbbing head. Was that the outline of Roman? He squinted past the mirror in front of him. It seemed this grey void was gradually dissolving before his eyes._

_“_ **_Save him, Virgil. Save him.”_ ** _Other Virgil reached forward, hand pressing through the liquid glass of the mirror and straight onto Virgil’s forehead._

Virgil’s head rocked back as his vision set back into place. He blinked, dazed. His eyes drifted back towards Roman. _Oh God. Roman._

“Shit,” he said, his fingers fumbling for a needle and thread in his coat. Soon he was able to pull out a compressed first aid kit with medical stitches. He bit the needle in his teeth as he unraveled the thread. “Hope you like white stitches,” Virgil muttered, stretching out the thread. He tied it to the needle, pulled up Roman’s shirt, and began cleaning the wound. The thought _why am I doing this?_ passed through his head, but he brushed it aside quickly. 

There was a lot of blood pooling on his chest. It took a while just for Virgil to see the wound itself. The deep black scar across his abdomen. _I’m just determined to screw myself over, aren’t I?_ He sighed to himself, hands already covered in Roman’s blood. _Might as well go all in_ , he thought, inserting the needle and making the first stitch. 

Stitching the wound took about fifteen minutes. Virgil’s hands were shaking, and they had slipped across the already slick surface of the wound. The white thread looked like handmade patchwork, but it would do for now. 

“You know, Roman, I know nothing about stitching. You chose the person you handcuffed yourself to,” he huffed, staring at his hands. They were covered with the dark red blood that was starting to dry over him. _I’ve seen worse._

Roman was faring much worse. His face was pale and beaded with sweat, but at least he was breathing. He was still out cold, so Virgil had no choice but to stay there. 

He could feel the adrenaline gradually leaving his body, replaced with exhaustion. The sun was starting to set. Virgil didn’t remember eating anything today—the low blood sugar was definitely making an appearance. His eyes fluttered a couple of times. 

_Damn it, Roman. Why did it have to be you?_

——

Janus’s phone lit up with an incoming call. _Remus_. He hesitated a moment before clicking accept. 

“Remus. What is it?”

“Virgil was called out for a mission a couple of hours ago.”

“What, so you’re bored? Go find someone else to bother,” He said, taking off his gloves and placing them next to him on the hotel bed. 

“No. The mission was supposed to last an hour, tops. All he needed to do was grab a package and go. But…Virgil’s gone. He hasn’t reported back.”

Janus froze. He looked up at the window. 

“Janus? Are you okay?”

“I’m coming back.”

“No, Janus, you’re on a mission. You need to track that dude.”

“I’m coming back,” Janus repeated, his voice wavering. 

“Janus, I can—” 

“ _No,_ ” Janus pressed. The phone went quiet, and Janus took a moment to collect himself. “Virgil is the closest thing to family I have left. I can’t lose him, Remus.”

“I see.”

“I’m going to call in someone else to take over this mission so I can find him.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting here.”

“Take a shower before I get back,” Janus added. 

“Only if you j—” Janus hung up the call before he could finish the sentence. 

He sighed to the empty room. “Virgil…where the hell did you go?” 

The image of a man with golden brown curly hair popped into his head. The way Virgil had looked at him before the memory serum wore off…surely it couldn’t be. 

_No, Virgil. Please don’t leave me behind._

_Please._

——

Roman sucked in a breath as he came to, causing a sharp pain to return to his chest. _Shit. What did Virgil do to me?_ He slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down at his stomach. It was covered in a thin layer of dried blood and… _wait, that wasn’t there before._ He lifted his hand to touch the once-white stitches, but a clinking sounded out as the handcuff on his hand stopped him. His eyes flicked to the side, seeing a sleeping Virgil still attached to the cuff. He blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure he was seeing it right. 

There he was, his knees up and his head placed in one of his hands. His…blood-covered hands. There was blood on his hands. 

Roman glanced from the hands to the patchwork stitches and made the connection, sending another wave of…what is it? Hope? He wasn’t sure. 

He moved his other hand to touch the stitches. They were made hurriedly. _Still the same ball of anxiety as before. At least that’s the same,_ he smiled to himself. 

With a grunt, he managed to pull himself up to a sitting position. The wound burned into his side, and he pressed his free hand to it, already winded. Gradually he leaned himself against the wall. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Virgil said suddenly, his voice coarse. Roman saw his eyes drift to his shirt, and after a second of realization, he lifted his shirt to reveal the wound. Virgil inspected it for a moment before nodding. Roman thought he was about to go back to sleep, but he slowly pulled up the thin black leggings he was wearing to reveal a new brace on his ankle and the ugly scars still screaming out their bold words. He only pulled the leggings up far enough for Roman to see “CO,” but he got the idea. After a moment, Virgil pulled down the leggings again.

“Why did you save me?” Roman asked tentatively.

“Because I didn’t want to be attached to a dead body. Or someone who looks like shit. You look like shit, by the way,” Virgil muttered, looking away. Roman could tell that it was a cover, but he didn’t exactly want to press. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to leave.”

“I did. Turns out the whole dislocating your thumb thing doesn’t work.” Roman sighed at Virgil’s poor attempts at aversion tactics. After a moment, he responded.

“You look like shit, too.” Virgil huffed, a semblance of a smile appearing on his face. He looked up at the dark sky, and Roman’s eyes followed. “Maybe we should get out of this alleyway. Find somewhere else to be.”

“Yeah, like RIIS headquarters? Not happening. I’d rather just stay here.”

“Two men sitting in an alleyway drenched in blood doesn’t exactly sound like my idea of a good time.”

“Well, we’re not going to RIIS.”

“Okay, I’ll settle for a hotel. Completely neutral. But we really can’t stay here in the middle of the city.” Virgil considered the deal for a moment and nodded. He stood up in a couple of seconds, but his arm was tugged back down by Roman. He looked back down at the latter man. 

“Can you walk?” 

“Yeah. Thanks,” Roman responded, pushing himself up. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you dare thank me. I’m only asking because I’m attached to you,” He muttered, glancing away out of the alley. Roman stumbled forward as he regained his ground; the dark spots were appearing in his vision once more. He put his free hand over the throbbing wound. His shirt was caked in blood, causing it to stick to his skin. 

After they made it out of the alleyway, Roman moved to search for a hotel on his wristwatch. Virgil noticed immediately and slapped his hand away. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? I said no RIIS involvement.”

“I was going to find a hotel nearby.”

“I can find it on my own.” Roman sighed, putting his hand back down. He tripped across a crack in the sidewalk and stumbled forward. Virgil caught him by his collar and yanked him back up. 

“There’s a hotel over there,” He pointed out. Roman nodded as the sky started looking brighter. He stumbled forward again and Virgil caught him, grabbing his chin and twisting it towards him. “Hey. Cut it out. This isn’t—”

Roman’s face was paler than before. He wasn’t breathing normally, only in short half-breaths.

“Shit. Please don’t pass out on me. Now is _really_ not the time,” Virgil grunted, trying to hold Roman up. “Just stay awake for, like, three minutes. C’mon.”

Virgil pushed open the doors to the hotel lobby, attracting the attention of a couple of patrons. He didn’t particularly care; he simply walked up to the front desk and asked the flustered employee for a room. 

“Apologies for my friend here. He’s a blackout drunk. Supposed to be the designated driver tonight, but oh well,” He said, taking the keys from the employee, who glanced at his bloodstained hands with suspicion. “Thanks,” He said, snatching the key and making as quick of an exit as possible. 

When they reached the room—on the first floor, luckily—he laid Roman on one of the beds and placed himself on the floor next to it; cuffed arm hanging at an odd angle off the bed. 

He sighed at the wall. 

“Fuck you, Princey.” 

——

Janus arrived back at COTECH quarters in the evening, having informed his replacement of all the guidelines for watching Logan. Walking down the hallway felt like time was slowing down around him. As if he was moving through molasses. When he reached Remus’s room, he knocked and only waited a second before bursting in. 

“Remus. I’m back.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I got dressed~” He responded, causing the heat to move into Janus’s cheeks. He didn’t move to check the bathroom, for risk of seeing Remus.

“Get decent. Now,” He said. As he waited, he scanned the room and was shocked to discover it…clean? _He keeps his room clean? What?_

The door to the bathroom creaked open to reveal Remus—fully dressed, to Janus’s relief—his hair wet from a shower?

_A shower? He ACTUALLY took a shower???_

_What the hell???_

“Good. You’re finally clean,” Janus said, cooling to his impassive façade. Remus looked almost disappointed, if that was a feeling he could muster. 

“Yup.” Remus shifted awkwardly. Silence dropped between the two of them as Janus remembered the regrettable semi-promise he had made. He quickly recovered himself.

“Let’s not waste time then. We have to find Virgil before RIIS does.”

Janus turned on his heel and left the room. 

_Please fight, Virgil. Don’t let RIIS get you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I think that was my longest chapter yet. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!! be sure to leave kudos and/or a comment if you did! :D
> 
> Sidenote/fun fact: so you probably noticed that Roman addresses every person in the review court as "Sir." That's a practice common in the military and I decided to keep it as a signature of respect and to emphasize ranking and structure within RIIS.


	15. Something's Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan accidentally becomes a recruiter. Roman and Virgil bicker a lot. Something important is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Strong language throughout.
> 
> Detailed descriptions of wounds; Stop reading at "Virgil's blatant..." to "Then he wrung...", and "'Don't move.'" to "The agents, assumedly..."
> 
> Out of body moments: Stop at "Roman seemed so sure of it," to "Virgil spit..." and "Who am I?" to "Maybe it was..."

Logan was fiddling with a new mapping device when it happened. The agent stalked into his hotel room and stood watching for a couple of seconds before they tried to leap on top of him. Logan was prepared, though, as he had seen the agent through his peripherals: He cast the device to the floor and whirled on his heel, striking them squarely in the jaw. The other agent stumbled back in shock. Before they could retaliate, Logan grabbed the agent and flipped them over his shoulder. They landed on the floor behind him, and he held them down by the neck. _Physics, bitch._

He prepared to give the final blow to the head, but stopped when he saw the agent’s face in detail. 

_They’re barely an adult. 19 at most. What the hell?_

“Who are you, and who do you work for?” Logan demanded, searching the kid’s eyes for any information that could give him away. 

“A—Alex. I work for COTECH,” they winced. 

“I suspected as much. How old are you?” Alex seemed confused for a moment before responding.

“Eighteen.”

“Why is COTECH sending children?” Logan said, more to himself than to Alex.

“I’m not a child,” They struggled against Logan’s oppressive grip. “I’ve been training for years for this.”

“Your fist mission, I assume?” Alex didn’t respond, but their expression made it clear. “So why did they assign _you_? Why would they assign you to ambush a gifted RIIS agent with eleven more years of experience than you? Well, they’re either running out of people to assign, or…or they didn’t assign you.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “How…”

“You were originally going to continue your training. But there was an urgent demand that the original agent needed to leave for. So they sent you, since they had no one else to do it. It was a completely unplanned switch, wasn’t it?” Alex hesitated a moment. “You can answer me, Alex. I’m not going to kill you,” Logan added, removing his hand from their neck. 

“Y-yeah. The other agent left because one of their friends had gone missing or something. Apparently they were assigned to a mission and didn’t return, that’s all I know. He told me how to track you but that’s it.”

Logan nodded. “Listen, Alex. COTECH shouldn’t have sent you out here. They obviously don’t care about risking the lives of their trainees. Must see you as expendable. Which is why I’m going to offer this to you right now: You can either go back to COTECH and report your first mission as a failure, which will probably earn teasing from your peers and punishments from the higher-ups, or you can come with me to RIIS headquarters. We won’t arrest you—in fact, after some preliminary questioning, we’ll train you as a RIIS agent. And we’ll make sure to train you right before we send you out into the field.”

Alex paused, looking away at the ground. Finally, they whispered, “COTECH will kill me. They’ll come after me forever. Plus, all my friends are there.”

“If COTECH sees you as expendable as they did when they assigned you here, then I doubt they’ll be that invested in spending resources to find you. Alex, you have value beyond what COTECH believes. I think your friends would see the same, if they were in your place.”

“But I don’t want to be seen as a deserter. As if I’m afraid.”

“You’re not a deserter. You’re ensuring that you’re not just a pawn that some high-up agency can throw away to further their agenda. And I promise to you, no RIIS agent will see you as a deserter if you join our ranks.” 

Alex looked off at the wall for a moment. Logan gave them their time.

“I’ll do it.”

Logan smiled softly. “Alright. Up you go, then,” He said, standing up and extending a hand to Alex. Afterwards, he quickly gathered his supplies as Alex sat on the bed in wait. 

“I…should probably confess that I was going to put trackers on you,” they said, holding out their hand to reveal four tiny devices. Logan glanced at them for a moment, squinting to see them clearly.

“Are they active yet?”

“Yeah.”

“I appreciate you telling me,” Logan said. “Put them in that nightstand drawer. Then we can get back to RIIS.” 

  
——

_TRAINING DAY 3 - COTECH FACILITIES - August 2007_

Virgil stumbled down the hall as he made his way to the training room. _Shit, I’m late. This will be fun._

His hair was disheveled and his clothes had been thrown on in just a couple of seconds before he left the barracks. Training had gone until midnight the previous day, and it was only six in the morning when it started back up. 

Six in the morning was ten minutes ago.

When he finally reached the training room, the rest of the trainees were standing at attention. He tried to sneak in, but the Agent Karnin, their trainer, caught him. 

“Virgil Morris,” She said, her voice booming across the first years’ gym. “Eleven minutes late. We’ve all been waiting for you to begin training. Well, since we’re here…I want _everyone_ to drop down and do fifty pushups for Virgil’s tardiness.” Virgil’s face turned bright red, the shame sinking in as he started to do his pushups. “AND IF I HEAR ANY COMPLAINING, WE WILL DO AN ADDITIONAL FIFTY.”

On pushup twenty-one, a voice piped up next to him. “Damn, Virgil. She’s going easy on you.” Virgil scrunched his brows and glanced over to the person on his left. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’ve heard she’ll usually assign a hundred or more to the first years for tardiness,” The other man smirked. 

“That’s good for us at least,” Virgil grunted as he finished the twenty-sixth pushup. “What’s your name?”

“Janus. You?”

“Virgil.”

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. Although…do try not to be late again, yeah?” He huffed, a grin appearing on his face. 

“I’ll do my best.”

——

_PRESENT DAY_

Roman woke up feeling as thought he might have a fever. He was stiff all throughout his lower body, and his head tight like it was stuffed with cotton. Every part of his body was aching, and his arm felt oddly heavy…

He looked down and noticed his wrist was still cuffed. Struggling to push himself a couple of inches further, he saw a wrist still attached to it. Virgil’s wrist. He squinted. _How has he not escaped yet?_

Not that he wasn’t grateful for it. He pulled the cuffs as close to his face as he could. 

“Betelgeuse, betelgeuse, betelgeuse,” He whispered, and the cuffs unlocked. He grabbed them in his hand and pulled them onto the side of the bed. Then he turned on his watch and sent tiny drones to the corners of the room, setting the commands to block all escape routes. 

After a couple of minutes of struggling, Roman managed to get out of the bed he was in— _how did I get here?_ —and to the bathroom mirror. Virgil’s blatant “You look like shit” statement was ringing through his head. The left side of his jaw was bruised heavily. Roman’s shirt was stained dark red; so was his jacket. He dreaded looking underneath his shirt, but knew that he would have to eventually. After hesitating for a minute, he lifted it up.

His entire abdomen was covered in a fine layer of dried blood, but what caused a shiver to go up his spine was the blue and black skin surrounding his wound. How he couldn’t tell what was cut and what was bruise, save for the hastily done stitches. He moved to touch the wound, but even a gentle tap reminded him of the healing that still had to be done. 

He remembered Logan telling him not to take a shower with new stitches, so he took a hand towel from the bathroom and got it wet with warm water. First, he wiped gently across his stomach to clean the stray dried blood. He winced as he got closer to the epicenter of the wound, and decided to grab another hand towel to bite down on as he worked. The pain was only diverted a little, and after five more minutes, the wound was throbbing. 

_At least it’s clean,_ Roman thought wearily. Slowly he took off his jacket and his shirt and plugged the drain in the bathtub. Then he filled it partway with warm water, dropping his shirt in. With a soap bar from the bathroom counter, he began scrubbing away at the dried blood; turning the water pink in the process. When it was thoroughly cleaned, he drained the old water and turned on the faucet to rinse the shirt. Then he wrung it out and hung it over the empty towel rack. While he waited for the shirt to dry, he used one of the hand towels—soaked with water—and wrung it out over his head. When his hair was sufficiently wet, he massaged in shampoo and then rinsed it out, leaving the hair to air-dry. He used the same hand towel to gently scrub the blood off his leather jacket. After a couple minutes of waiting, Roman grew bored and began digging through the drawers underneath the bathroom sink. He discovered a complementary hair dryer, which he then used to dry his shirt and his hair out, until the golden-brown curls in his hair returned. 

Virgil woke up when he heard the sound of the blowdryer going. He took in his surroundings and quickly realized that the handcuffs were absent from his wrist. In a second he stood up and stumbled backwards from the bed. 

The blowdryer sound came from the bathroom, so he moved to escape through the window. However, his hands slipped off the window lock as if there wasn’t one there at all. He tried again with the same result. As he reached his hands up for the third try, a voice interrupted him.

“It won’t work.” Virgil whirled around to see Roman standing in the doorway. _What is it with Roman strutting around shirtless all the time? Jesus._ He tried to look away from Roman’s chest but a black mark the size of his palm caught his attention. _No. Wait. It can’t be._

“Is that…” he pointed at the dark mark, trailing off. Roman’s eyes snapped down and he moved a hand up to cover the wound.

“It’s fine,” he quickly dismissed. “The window won’t open because I set up drones to block the entrances to the room. It’s going to keep you from opening any exits.”

“Great. And I assume you called RIIS already to pick me up?” Virgil lashed back.

“No, actually. I kept my word,” Roman said nonchalantly. He stepped back into the bathroom and grabbed his shirt and jacket before moving to the bed. “Shower’s open if you need it.”

Virgil glanced down at his hands and decided it was for the best. Once he shut the door behind him, he noticed a certain tenseness that hadn’t been there before. He rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath. When he looked in the mirror, his face had a red flush. 

_Why the hell am I so tense? It’s not like he was naked._ His face grew redder as he tried to shake off that thought. _Come on. This isn’t me. It’s just some dude who has really nice abs and you need to stop getting flustered over it. He probably did it for that exact purpose. Brush it off, Virgil._

As he stepped into the shower, he tried to repeat it to himself and quell the herd of butterflies in his stomach. 

——

“So you’re telling me that he hasn’t been sighted on a single security camera in the area?” Janus said, squinting into his computer.

“Apparently not. But that is his preferred method, you know. He makes himself hard to find,” Remus responded over the comms, looking down over the edge of the roof of COTECH’s main building. 

“But you’d think he’d at least _try_ to make himself seen so we could find him?”

“Maybe he’s still obsessed with that Roman guy.” Remus sniffed the air around him.

“No. He’s told both of us that he’s not interested in him anymore. Why would he lie to us?” 

“Well, if you want to have sex with an agent from a rival agency, you’re not going to _tell_ anyone. Kinda like Romeo and Juliet. They fall crazy in love in a matter of days, tell none of their family members—or in this case their friends—, suddenly disappear to try to escape the place they came from. And then they died,” Remus shrugged.

“But they’re not going to die. We’re going to get Virgil back.”

“What if he doesn’t want to come back?”

“He will. I can be very persuasive if need be,” Janus said, ending that conversation. “Wait. I think I might have found him. I’m sending the video over to you now.”

Remus waited until he received the clip on his phone. He squinted at the grainy frame and watched Virgil walking with—or dragging?—Roman into a hotel. 

“Fascinating. See what I mean about that theory, though?” Remus said. 

“No, look closer. They’re handcuffed together. Virgil _has_ to go with that RIIS agent. He’s probably going to try to bring him back to RIIS today—we have to get him,” Janus pressed. “I found the name of the hotel, I’ll be down in the garage in a minute. Sending coordinates now.”

“Copy. Meet you at the hotel.”

——

Virgil emerged from the shower feeling much more refreshed. Once he got dressed, he began searching for his anti-anxiety medication. Strangely, it wasn’t in his coat. He moved out to the bedrooms to see if he had left it there. Roman was sitting in a chair facing the window, seemingly unaware of Virgil’s presence until he said,

“What are you looking for?”

“Need to take my meds. I can’t find them, though,” Virgil said, rummaging through the drawers and checking under the beds.”

“Too bad we don’t have Patton carrying them around this time,” Roman said. 

“Who the hell is Patton?” Virgil asked absentmindedly. “Ah. Here they are.”

Roman froze up for a minute before turning around to read Virgil’s expression.

“You’re kidding, right?” Roman furrowed his brows.

“Uh, no? Am I supposed to know who Patton is?” Virgil said, returning to the bathroom. A second later, Roman heard him brushing his teeth.

“Yeah, he said he was your best friend.”

“Stop playing games with me, Princey. I don’t have time for this,” Virgil said, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. 

“I’m serious. You don’t remember him?”

“No. I have no idea who you’re talking about. Now let me finish brushing my teeth and we can get on with this fascinating conversation,” Virgil said, spitting. 

Roman contemplated this new discovery. How could Virgil have forgotten Patton so easily? According to Patton, they had been best friends since middle school, and Virgil seemed to share these feelings. Before. There was no bad blood between the two of them. 

_But I read his expression. It wasn’t a matter of dislike—it was complete memory loss. There was no opinion there. He couldn’t have hidden those feelings completely, even if he is a spy._

In the bathroom, Virgil thought about the name Patton. It didn’t even seem vaguely familiar, yet Roman seemed so sure of it. _Maybe it was some unimportant person we met during that mission together. Or maybe Roman’s thinking another person he and this Patton knew well. I don’t know. His wording was just…weird._

_“_ **_You’re forgetting._ ** _” Virgil didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see Other Virgil crouching behind him, partly obscured by the steam from Virgil’s shower._

_“I’m not forgetting anything. Stop messing with my head.”_

**_“I’m not the one messing with your head._ ** _” Virgil scrunched his brows, but shook it off quickly._

_“Go away.” Other Virgil shrugged, and gradually began to fade into the background._

Virgil spit one last time before putting the toothbrush down. He then walked out of the bathroom, trying hard to forget the ominous things he had just been told. Trying to forget that a random entity was making appearances in his head at all. 

“We should really be going,” Roman said, standing up from his chair the moment he saw Virgil emerge. He held out the open handcuffs to Virgil. 

“Do we seriously have to do this thing with the handcuffs again?”

“If we walk out of here without them, either agency that finds the footage of us—because there will be some, undoubtedly—will think that we’re betraying our side. Which I’m sure you wouldn’t want. And I’m already in enough shit with RIIS because of you.”

“Really? Tell me more,” Virgil said, feigning an innocent look. Roman gave him an exasperated glance. 

“Just put it on.” Virgil shrugged, and a second later Roman heard a click to confirm that he had done it. 

“I thought you were supposed to be good at your job, Princey. What happened there?” Virgil said mockingly as Roman dragged them out of the hotel room. 

“Shut it.”

“Ooh, struck a nerve there? Just how badly did I screw you over?”

“I swear—” Roman growled, clenching his fist.

“C’mon, Princey, you know what happened last time we fought in handcuffs,” Virgil murmured, his eyes flicking down to Roman’s abdomen. It was enough of a message for Roman to unclench his fist. “So exactly how high up on the food chain are you? You’re obviously not one of their pawns, but they’ve got to have some sort of hierarchy.”

“RIIS doesn’t have pawns. Something I can’t say is the same for COTECH. And I’m not going to tell you RIIS’s ranking system, so don’t ask.”

“Worth a shot.” The conversation quieted down as Roman checked them out of the hotel. Once they were outside again, it resumed. 

“What about _your_ agency? I assume you were well rewarded for stabbing me.”

“Oh, yes. Among other things.”

Roman’s lips tightened. “Wonderful.”

“So where are we going, anyways?” Virgil said, strolling as casually as possible down the wide city streets. “It’s not like we have jobs to get back to or anything.”

“I was thinking we would lay low at my apartment for a while.”

“Most people like to go on a date before you bring them to your apartment, Princey. I get it if that’s not your style, but…” Roman’s face went red. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Virgil smirked, glad to have gotten a blush out of the all-too-serious spy. 

“So how long will we be staying there?”

“As long as it takes. Might ransom you off to COTECH.”

“That’s not how COTECH operates, Princey.”

“Yeah? And how _do_ they operate?”

“They’ll kill me. Or both of us. It’s a measure of precaution to make sure no information was leaked.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Silence. 

“I see what you’re doing.”

“Yeah?” Roman batted his eyelashes dramatically. 

“Shut up.” There was a long beat of silence before Virgil spoke again, this time with a much more serious tone. “This is the commitment I signed up for. I’m not backing out of it anytime soon.”

“Wow. So you’re just an emo nightmare all the time, aren’t you?”

“It’s something I pride myself on,” Virgil deadpanned. 

The rest of the walk remained mostly silent, save the occasional snippet. By the time they reached Roman’s apartment, it was almost noon, on the account that Roman needed to rest for his wound every so often. The duo entered Roman’s flat and he quickly locked the door behind them. 

“So we’re just going to wait here?” Virgil asked, taking note of the locked door and scanning the rest of his surroundings. 

“Yep.”

“Can you, like, uncuff me or something?”

“Well…” At that moment, five RIIS agents appeared from their hiding spots, guns trained on Virgil.

“Stop where you are,” one of them commanded. “Brown. Simmons. Get the COTECH agent.” He waved the two flanking agents forward. 

“You told them,” Virgil muttered to Roman, a dark look in his eyes.

“I—”

“Save it.” Virgil pulled out a knife from his coat and, within a second, twisted around behind Roman and put the knife to his throat. “Don’t move. If you come any closer, I will slit this agent’s throat and let him bleed out on the floor as I kill the rest of you.” 

The agents, assumedly Brown and Simmons, froze and looked at their commander. He held up a hand confirming that they should halt their advance. Virgil backed towards the window, knife remaining at Roman’s throat. He used his handcuffed hand to unlock the window behind him. 

“Hand over agent Phillips,” The commander said.

“I don’t think I will. I think I’ll keep him,” Virgil mused, feeling Roman shift uncomfortably in his arms. 

“Virgil—” Roman struggled, but was silenced when Virgil pressed the knife harder against his throat. 

“Don’t say a word,” He muttered into Roman’s ear. To the agents, he spoke louder. “Drop your weapons. I want to see them touch the floor.” The agents obliged slowly, and as soon as they were safely out of the opposition’s hands, Virgil spun around, opened the window, grabbed his grappling hook, and jumped, holding Roman under his arm. By the time the agents reached the window, they were gone. 

Roman watched, appalled, as Virgil swung with ease across multiple buildings as if he weighed nothing in Virgil’s arm. It reminded him of when Not-Virgil—or was that the real Virgil after all?—attacked Roman. He had held up Roman’s entire body with one hand, so this strength he exhibited would make sense. 

_Damn. He must be ripped underneath that coat…_ Roman quickly shook off the thought. _Why does it always go there with him?_

Virgil remained silent for the entire trip. Roman braced for a painful impact as Virgil flipped above the buildings, but was surprised by the smoothness of the landing. 

“ _You lied to me_ ,” Virgil said immediately after standing up; his words shooting venom at Roman. “You said you weren’t going to call RIIS.” After a long pause, Roman responded calmly.

“I’m not going to pretend I didn’t.”

“I thought you were all about truth. And not stabbing people in the back.”

“Like you stabbed me in the abdomen just because I work for RIIS? Don’t be a hypocrite.” Virgil’s eyes flicked downward. “If you expect me to be morally sound all the time, then I should be able to expect the same from you. But I can’t, can I? Otherwise we wouldn’t be linked together with handcuffs.” 

Virgil glared. “Typical RIIS agent.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you can pretend to care, but everyone around you knows you only care about yourself. Getting the mission done. Pretending to be morally sound about it too.”

“I could say the same about you, Doctor Gloom. Just look at you. You stab me in the abdomen, come back a night later and take advantage of the fact that you _broke my heart_ just so you could make an easy getaway. Then you punch me in the abdomen and tear open my stitches. You barely decided to put them back together, I can see that much. What are you going to do now? Use it all to get me fired so you never have to see me again? Rip open my stitches when it’s convenient for you and let me bleed to death while all your friends watch? Why the hell make all these stereotypes about RIIS when you’re the one who emulates them the most? _You_ are the coldhearted monster here. Not me.” Roman spat. 

“Must suck being so pretentious that you don’t even notice RIIS agents hauling off families to recruit their new agents when they refuse the first time,” Virgil challenged, stepping dangerously close to Roman.

“What are y—”

“Oh? You didn’t notice? Yeah, well that’s what they did to me. They _took my family_ , Roman. Haven’t seen them since I was seventeen. Killed off my friend’s family, too. The one you call Deceit.”

“That’s not how RIIS operates. They wouldn’t do that.”

“That’s not how RIIS operates for the élite groups. Lower class doesn’t get that luxury. You all are a bunch of self-centered, classist assholes with no capacity for caring. I do what I have to do just so I can survive against you. You do it because you’re privileged. You see the difference?”

“You’ve got it all wrong. That’s against every code for RIIS’s operations.”

“Oh, _I’ve_ got it all wrong? How would you know if you’re stuck on the inside? You wouldn’t. You have no idea what the higher-ups in your agency are pulling off.”

“Why does it keep going back to what agency I belong to? What does that matter? Obviously this hatred you have towards me runs deeper than that. I didn’t take away your family. I don’t believe RIIS did either, but that’s not a problem I can solve. What the hell is your problem with _me_? _Why can’t you just look at me and say it_?”

Silence.

“I can’t,” Virgil responded, staring at a fine point on the rooftop so he could avoid looking at Roman.

“What does that even _mean_? Am I somehow so horrible that you can’t even look at me and tell me what I did to deserve this? You break me down to my core without a shred of sympathy. And I can’t even get an explanation as to why. Not a direct one, anyways.”

Virgil shrugged. 

“You should’ve just left me to bleed out in that alleyway,” Roman said, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step back from the heated argument. “But you didn’t. Are you that determined to string me along and use me until I have nothing more to give you? When are you going to finally dispose of me, Virgil?” 

Virgil shuddered when he heard his name on Roman’s lips. He said it so softly, still fresh from an open wound. He could feel Roman’s world shattering around him. 

_God, he’s right. I am a coldhearted monster._

_Why did I do that?_ He recounted kissing Roman as a means of escape. Laughing at his flaws in front of Janus. Watching the consciousness fade from him both times he hurt him. Watching the trust drain away. 

He looked back at Roman, who was now scanning the side of the building, steeling his face for another heartbreak. 

_Who am I?  
_

_Who am I?_

**_“I see you’re starting to figure it out now._ ** _” Other Virgil stared from some point in space and time. Virgil could tell he was supposed to look like he was standing on the edge of the roof, but there was something out of place about his position. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. His hair was obscured underneath the hood of his jacket, but the shadows didn’t hide his eye makeup from showing up._

_“Do you know who I am?”_

_“_ **_There’s a lot that neither of us know. I know more than you as of right now. However, I cannot say how much. But…_ ** _”_

_“But what?”_ **** _  
_

**_“He holds the key to finding it out,”_ ** _Other Virgil nodded at Roman, who was frozen in time. Virgil wondered for a second what would happen if he tried to touch his hair._

_“So what do I do, then? Ask him if he’s ever had an out of body experience? Or is this some kind of split-personality thing?” Other Virgil shrugged. Virgil realized that Other Virgil’s placement looked weird because his image was actually in the reflection of the windows from the building next to them._

_“_ **_You’ll find a way_ ** _._ **_But first you need to make amends.”_ **

_“How do I—”_ _The apparition began to fade away again, and Virgil’s words were lost._

Maybe it was stubbornness, or pride, or both, that kept Virgil from saying anything.

Or maybe it was the bullets that rang out against the AC unit right behind Roman. 

“Get down! Now!” Roman yelled, pushing Virgil down beneath him so they were blocked by the roof’s edging. 

“Damn it. Who’s shooting at us now?” Virgil said, ignoring the pain in his back from being slammed against the concrete. And the fact that he was now pinned underneath a very attractive—

_STOP. Not the time, Virgil—_

“Can’t tell. But they _really_ want to kill someone today.”

“Sounds like Remus to me,” Virgil muttered to himself. Roman squinted.

“Oh, you’re right. That is Remus,” Roman said. Then his eyes widened. “SHIT, THAT’S REMUS.”

“Can’t go two minutes without being attacked, can we?” Virgil huffed, his cheeks burning.

“Obviously. God damn it,” Roman glanced at his watch, then tapped on the screen a couple of times. “Okay, you’re going to want to close your eyes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just close them!” Virgil did as he asked, and a second later, he heard a humming sound near his head. Then on the other side. Then Roman shifted his weight and the humming sound went away. “Virgil, grab on to my waist.”

“What?”

“Just do it,” Roman said, exasperated. Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman and felt Roman do the same. 

Suddenly, they were falling. 

Roman took the brunt of the impact as they collided into the floor of the story below them. Virgil’s eyes snapped open as they landed, in enough time to see Roman wince from the pain. 

“Roman, your stitches,” Virgil looked down to see if they were okay, but he couldn’t tell. 

“I’m fine. C’mon, we need to go,” Roman said, standing up with another wince. “That window. Break it open and then use your grappling hook to get us out of here. Quickly, he’s coming.”

Virgil fumbled for the hook, which he was able to find in a couple of seconds. He kicked open the glass window and prepared to lift Roman in his arm just as Remus dropped through the roof. With one last glance, he jumped.

“Virgil!” Remus yelled huskily, watching as his friend ran away from him. He stared for a couple of seconds before clenching his fists, turning away from the window. “Janus, this is Remus. We lost Virgil.”

“What? Roman captured him?”

“No. He went willingly.” There was silence on the other end of the comms line. “Janus?”

“Why would he do that?” Janus hissed. 

“Okay, well there are two reasons: Virgil’s going to kill him, or he’s going to fuck him.”

“Remus. Profanity on the comms.”

“Sorry, babe, just thought you’d want to hear the truth.”

“Don’t call me _babe_. And it was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, Janus, so uptight. All the time. You really need to loosen u—”

“HOW can I LOOSEN UP when Virgil just left to be with a RIIS AGENT?” Janus shot back. 

“…you sound cute when you’re distressed. Maybe we should do this more often?” Remus suggested. The comms crackled in his ear. “Janus? Janus, you still there? Ah. He turned off the comms.”

Janus let his head fall into his hands, hat toppling behind him onto the floor. The weight of his stress was beating down on him inside the back of the van where the comms line was set up. _The only reason Virgil would leave would be if he fell in love with the RIIS agent. Or he never lost those feelings._

_How could I let his slip away from me so easily? How could he forget what RIIS has done to us?_

His face contorted from sadness to one of resolute anger. 

_I guess I’ll just have to remind him, then._

_——_

Logan stepped foot into RIIS’s archival facility, the temporary control center until the main one was back in RIIS’s hands. Beside him was the curious and bewildered Alex, taking in all their new surroundings. They passed files of officers and trainees alike until they finally reached the recruitment office. After he had gotten Alex settled and said his goodbyes, Logan moved to the Missions department. 

“Ah, agent Fletcher. Glad to see you’ve returned to us.”

“I’m not sure how permanent this will be, unfortunately. COTECH has been keeping me on my toes, and I want to lure them off the trail of my friends. I was just checking in on the status of agent Roman Phillips?”

“Let me see…” The agent glanced at her computer, adjusting her glasses to see the screen properly. “Agent Phillips was on temporary case review suspension, but the Director decided to lift it and put him on a low-stakes mission. He accomplished the mission and captured an agent from COTECH, but the extraction team wasn’t able to get him. Apparently the COTECH agent took him hostage.”

“Were they able to identify the COTECH agent that took him?”

“Yes. His name is Virgil Morris. Does that ring a bell?” Logan blinked twice, then nodded at the agent. 

“Thank you for your help. Please don’t report my visit, I want to remain under the radar for the time being.”

“Understood.”

Logan walked slowly down the hallways of the facility, trying to process this new information. 

_Virgil had stabbed Roman without remorse._

_What is he going to do now?_

_God, he’s going to kill him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. I love getting comments from you; hearing your theories and knowing you're invested in the story is what keeps me writing. Thank you so much <3 <3
> 
> angst train, angst train, angst traaaain


	16. We're Not Broken, Just Bent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs to reexamine their feelings. Concessions are made. 
> 
> Flashbacks to shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Starvation (Skip all of Training Day 62)  
> Some mild cursing throughout. 
> 
> The title is from "Just Give Me A Reason" by Pink and I do not claim the lyrics as my own in any regards.

_TRAINING DAY 62 - TRAINEE GYM - 31 October 2007_

“Alright, trainees. Listen up,” Agent Karnin said, her lips forming a tight line as she contemplated her next words. “If you get captured in the field, you will be tortured. They’ll find any way they can to get information out of you. You will need to be ready for that. So today, we start hunger training. You will learn to manage our bodies without food: what toll it takes and how to account for that. Get ready for three days of pain. You’ll thank me later.”

——

_PRESENT DAY_

Virgil punched a hole in the wall of the hotel room. 

“That’s going to be an extra hundred dollars,” Roman mumbled without looking up.

“Damn it, Roman. Now is not the time. I just betrayed my cause and my friend—”

“Remus is your friend?” Roman quirked an eyebrow.

“—And now you can’t get these stupid cuffs off.”

“I’m almost offended that you don’t want to be attached to me.” Virgil sent him a withering glare. “I’m joking.”

“Again, Roman, now is not the time.”

“Well, I’m working on it, if you would just stay still for a minute,” Roman said, pulling the cuff back down to the nightstand. He began fiddling with the screwdrivers that Virgil had provided out of his coat— _seriously, does that thing have infinite storage units or what?_

Gradually Virgil’s focus was redirected from fuming with rage to curiosity. 

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Quiet. I’m working,” Roman quipped. Virgil waited a couple of seconds, watching the progress he made.

“You shouldn’t do that.” The cuff exploded into sparks before dying down into nothing; with no effect on the locking mechanism. Roman blinked.

“You do it, then,” Roman said, pushing the equipment towards Virgil, who was visibly itching to work on it. Virgil immediately took a screwdriver and began to hunch down close to the cuffs. He put one of the lock picks in his mouth absentmindedly as he worked. 

“See, you just have to—” the edge of the screwdriver slid off the metal surface, leaving a small scratch in its façade. “Hm.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I did.”

“Yeah, well I’m doing it better, so hush,” Virgil said, looking up for a moment before returning to his work. He continued to pry at the solid surface for a minute before moving to examine his own cuff. “There might be a locking mechanism inside the side of the cuff here, if I could just…”

_Pop._

Roman stared at the cuffs for a second before sighing dramatically. “Well, that did nothing.”

“Wrong. It did something. Just. Not what I wanted.” Virgil stared at the cuff. The link between each side of the cuff had expanded into a longer chain, meaning that Virgil and Roman now had…slightly more space?

“Stupid cuffs had to short out on us,” Roman muttered, glaring at the wall. 

“I’ll remind you again that that was entirely your fault. Drilling a hole in the roof was _your_ idea.”

“To _save_ us!! You know, from the creepy dude who was trying to kill me!”

“Hey. He may be creepy, but he’s still my friend.”

“I’m sorry, but didn’t he break your ankle and slash ‘COTECH’ into your leg?”

“Yeah, but I beat him in sparring for it afterwards. So we’re good.” Virgil poked into the opening on the side of his cuff with the screwdriver, trying to bend some sort of wires into place.

“Oh, is _that_ all it takes,” Roman mumbled.

“Don’t get any fun ideas, Roman. I’m really not in the mood for close combat.” Roman clicked his tongue impatiently.

“Trust me, I’m not in that place either.” 

A comfortable silence descended on the two of them; Virgil continued working while Roman daydreamed on his own. There was the occasional clink or spring from the cuffs that attracted their attention, but the majority of the time was spent in peaceful quietness. Until Virgil decided to break it. 

“Did you mean what you said back there? On the roof?”

“Which part?” Roman said cautiously, not wanting to break the careful truce between them. 

“When you said I should’ve let you bleed out. Did you mean that?”

A pause. Roman opened his mouth to form a response, but none came. He looked away from the cuffs, hiding his mouth in his free hand. 

“These last few days have been…difficult for me. I hardly know what I’m saying anymore.”

“That’s a great way to not answer my question at all.” This time, Roman sent Virgil a look.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“This isn’t something to be taken lightly, Roman.”

“And since when do you care about my feelings?” Roman snapped back. He instantly regretted it, and averted his eyes once more. Virgil’s face darkened. 

“ _You’re_ still assuming you know me. When you really don’t.” 

“And whose fault is that, exactly?” Roman asked, his eyes watching Virgil’s expectantly. 

They held eye contact for a moment. 

Staring. 

Waiting.

The lamp on the nightstand toppled to the floor as Virgil stood up suddenly and pressed his lips against Roman’s. Roman inhaled in shock, his hands flying up instinctively. After a moment, he relaxed into the kiss, hands falling into place on Virgil’s waist as he rose to meet him. It was a rough, fervent kiss, signaling some desperation within the both of them that they had been suppressing. Roman was taken by surprise by the energy; it was causing him to feel dizzy. 

Virgil tugged Roman by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a tighter embrace, running his free hand through Roman’s hair. 

After a minute, Roman broke off the kiss to catch his breath. He stood back, blinking as the world came back into focus, and cleared his throat. 

“Virgil, you…What—What are you doing?” He stuttered, his voice going soft as he realized the consequences of what they had just done. 

“The hell do you think?” Virgil said, his cheeks taking on a rose tint. He waited a second, reading Roman’s expression, before his own face fell. “You think this is a part of some plan.”

“Well, I definitely have reason to believe that. You see what I mean.” Roman’s eyes flicked towards the wall. _Damn it, Roman, why can’t you just enjoy one good thing?_

“I just opened up to you! That’s the most honest thing I’ve done! Do you know how hard that is for me?” Virgil said, his voice rising. 

_Probably because it always ends in…that._

“Actually, I’ve noticed that it’s rather easy for you to kiss someone then disappear,” Roman snapped back. “I can’t—I can’t let you get away with this again. I trusted you. I told you too much, and you left. Why the hell did I do that?” 

Virgil opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t bring himself to say what he was feeling. If he even knew what that was. _Sadness, maybe? Guilt?_

“This is just like Adam. Damn it all,” Roman muttered, turning around as if he were going towards the window. He instead elected to sit on the closest bed, which caused Virgil to be tugged forward as well. 

“Who’s…Adam?”

“Adam is dead.” Roman’s voice cracked on the last syllable. Virgil’s eyes cast downwards, trying to comprehend what Roman was saying. After a couple of seconds had passed, a glimmer of a memory came back to him. 

_‘All I could do was run, after it was over.’_

_‘…trying to scrub his blood off my arms…’_

_‘…Remus…’_

“The extraction mission. The one that you failed,” Virgil whispered. He saw Roman’s jaw tighten. “That was Adam.”

“Yes.”

“You…loved him.”

Roman hesitated. “Yes.” 

Virgil nodded for a moment, preparing to add something, say something to fill the suffocating silence. Roman beat him to it. 

“For almost a year since I’ve seen his face in my head. And just as it starts to fade away, just as I start to get rid of this…you turned on me. And now it’s your face that haunts me, reminding me of how _I failed my job._ Again. Yet despite all that anger I _could_ feel…I don’t. Because I know that no matter how many times you hurt me or betray me, I won’t be able to get rid of these feelings. These stupid, worthless—”

“Roman.” Virgil’s eyes flicked to the spy’s, and then back to the ground. “Your—your feelings aren’t worthless.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he muttered. 

“Shut up and listen to me,” Virgil commanded. “Your feelings aren’t worthless. I just kissed you out of the blue after we had a major fight. We’ve been hot and cold for the last week. Having mixed feelings is perfectly understandable. And it’s my fault. I’ve been messing with your head because I thought it’s what was right for COTECH and then immediately going back on it—because, in all honesty, I have no idea what’s right anymore. If I should trust my mind or my heart. I thought this betrayal was all part of the job, but it’s not. It was a choice. A terrible choice. Look, I still don’t believe my agency is in the wrong, but I can’t believe that you are, either. You may be a RIIS agent but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel anything. And I—I feel something. Here. I have for a while. Getting my memories back was disorienting but I realize I never stopped liking you. Despite everything. It’s something I avoided for a while, but I shouldn’t have.”

Roman blinked twice. 

“And—And I know you probably don’t know what to believe anymore. I could just be lying to your face. But I swear, I need to make it up to you. I made a huge mistake in betraying someone I care about. Because I want this, I really do,” Virgil said, his hand closing around Roman’s. Roman looked to Virgil cautiously, praying that when he saw Virgil’s face he would know it was real. His eyes drifted over the man’s figure, from his long black coat to the scars on his fingertips to his face. The rugged expression. The purple-tipped hair, disheveled after the events of the day. Eyes downcast, as if Virgil was waiting for an execution.

“I want this too…but how is it going to work out? You and I, I mean,” Roman said tentatively. “I don’t think either of our agencies would approve of us being together.” 

“And chances are, we’ll have to fight each other on many more missions. We—we can’t make this official to anyone, which makes things difficult. And we definitely can’t have a typical relationship.”

“Those are boring, anyway,” Roman smirked. “Look, our agencies are practically our lifestyles. But maybe we could find a way to meet in between missions, whenever those times coincide. It would be few and far between. So…kind of like a long distance relationship.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “I think it could work. How would we contact each other, though?”

“Right. We can’t use conventional methods. Or any type of code, I’m pretty sure RIIS knows all of them,” Roman added. He ran a hand through his hair, causing Virgil’s cheeks to color. 

“In that case, I’ll find you. I know where you live.” Roman raised a brow. 

“That did _not_ come out the way you thought it would, Virge,” Roman said. Virgil blushed harder. 

“You know what I meant!” He said as Roman began to laugh, falling backwards on the bed. “Shut up, Princey.” Virgil hid his face in a hand, wishing he could roll into the fetal position and disappear to save himself the embarrassment. 

“Why _do_ you call me Princey?” Roman said slowly, the smirk still wide on his face. Virgil made a noise of faint surprise and attempted to hide himself further. He could feel the blood rushing to his face. _Please don’t make me explain it, please don’t make me explain it…._

“No reason,” He said quickly. 

“Uh huh…I’m going to call BS on that one. C’mon, Virge, you have to tell me!”

“Nope. Not telling.”

“Okay, Panic! at the Everywhere, keep your secrets, then. For now.” Virgil raised a brow.

“For now?”

“I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Yeah, sure,” Virgil said, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. Suddenly the cuffs began to sizzle, and another popping noise resounded. Virgil pulled back, curiously lifting his hand to inspect the cuffs. 

“The cuffs unlocked. Guess the thing’s circuits fried,” he said, removing the cuff from his wrist. The skin underneath was red and raw from the action they had seen that day. 

“Interesting. All it took was patience.”

“And flipping around a couple of wires to start an electrical current running in the wrong direction.”

“Wait, what?” Roman sat up quickly.

“Nothing.”

“That could’ve made the cuffs explode, though,” Roman said, concern rising on his face.

“Yup.”

“Oh, well that’s great to know _after_ the fact.” They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before bursting into laughter. 

“Oh my gosh, we almost _died!_ ” Virgil wheezed. Roman looked up at him, wiping his tears away. 

_He looks so beautiful when he’s happy,_ Roman thought. _I wish I could make him happy every day of my life._ His heart ached at the thought; At how badly he wanted this. 

_Can I even make that happen, though?_

_What are the chances that that would ever work?_

“You good there, Princey?” Virgil’s smile faltered. 

“Y-yeah, I’m all good. I’m good.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just…an hour ago we were arguing and now we’re kissing,” Roman said. “It’s a pretty drastic turn. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

Virgil quirked a brow, bringing his face millimeters from Roman’s. “Well, which part do you like better?”

“This one. No question.” The corner of Virgil’s lip tugged into a grin.

“Then let’s make the most of it.” Roman’s eyelids fluttered closed as Virgil kissed him again. 

——

_TRAINING DAY 350 - TRAINEE GYM - 20 August 2008_

“Wake up, everyone. Today is a special day amongst the trainees. You can ask any graduate of the COTECH programs; they’ll tell you the same,” Agent Karnin said. “Today I want you all to form groups of three. These will be your missions groups. Once there, you will be assigned a low-stakes espionage mission within the agency. Whichever group is first to retrieve the information I have specified and bring it back to me, will be receiving a special award along with recognition from the Director for their efforts. I have already alerted the security guards of each of the missions; They will be working against you to keep their information safe.”

Virgil’s back straightened as he thought of all the possibilities for information espionage. He glanced at Janus, then at Remus, to confirm that they would be a group. They both nodded, and as soon as Agent Karnin said the word, they clustered together. 

“Now. You will have forty eight hours to retrieve this information, starting as soon as you take your envelope from me. Those who fail to retrieve their information…they will be cut from the COTECH training program,” She said, looking pointedly at Virgil’s group. 

“Jeez. You’d think after almost a year she’d lighten up a bit,” Remus muttered. 

“Remus, you are literally so close to failing this course,” Janus whispered back. 

“Without further ado, then. Let’s pass out the missions,” Agent Karnin finished, surveying the trainee class. 

She walked swiftly between each group distributing files, causing some to groan and some to cheer. Either way, the groups quickly moved to plan each mission. Eventually their turn came; and Virgil reached out to grab their file. As Agent Karnin left, the trio huddled around the file and read through it. 

_Your Mission:_

_Retrieve the archival information stores on the last Director of COTECH._

_Supplemental Information:_

_The Director’s Archive will hold confidential information such as this; it is located in the third floor of the COTECH operatives building. The mission will require a great deal of stealth and resourcefulness. This is one of the most heavily guarded archives in the entire facility._

_You have 48 hours._

“I think this is actually the _worst_ mission we could have gotten,” Remus stated blatantly. 

“We can do it. We just have to focus our energies. We’re allowed to use any resources, right? Why don’t we just raid the supply rooms and see what they have?”

“Sure,” Virgil responded. “I think they keep some maps of the building in there too. We can find out if there are any ways to get in covertly. 

Breaking into the supply room was easy enough. Finding the maps? …Less so. They were nearly two hours in to their allotted tome before they found any archival information. In the end, Remus tripped over the box containing the information. 

“Let’s just keep that part to ourselves,” Remus said as they were sorting through the maps. 

“Look! Here it is!” Virgil exclaimed, unrolling a map of the third story archives. 

“Great. Let’s mark off our entrances and survey them. Virgil, I think you should be the one to go on recon. You’ve been really good at it in training.”

“I don’t know, man. I’m not that good.”

“If you don’t do it, I will. And we all know how well I did in that class,” Remus said. Janus shook his head.

“Agent Karnin almost flunked you right then and there.”

“Exactly,” Remus responded. “Hey, look at these!”

Remus tugged out a dusty box and wiped off the cover. 

“Remus, we don’t have time for…wait, _COTECH Standardized Communications Systems_? What year is that from?” Janus’s eyes lit up as he picked up the box. “Oh my God…These aren’t just any comms systems, these are the _originals._ I’ve always wanted to use these in the field.” 

“Do they work?” Virgil asked, a marker between his teeth as he studied the map below him. “All the teams are on our own for equipment. Having a comms system would put us ahead of them.”

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gooooosh,” Janus’s eyes sparkled as he opened the box. “ _Virgil, we’re going to make these work,_ ” he whispered. He pulled out a clunky transceiver from the box, followed by two…earpieces? They must be. A thin wire was bent so it coiled around the back of the ear, and the other part of the wire was bent so that there was a tiny microphone positioned in front of the mouth. The wire bent around the ear also was connected to a small flesh-colored box with a switch on it, that would presumably stick inside the ear. Janus explained that the switch was there to turn on the comms system. 

“Virgil, this stuff is _brand new!_ They probably never had any field time at all…yet. Here, come on, put them on!”

“Okay, you nerd, I’ll do it.” Virgil took the earpiece and put it around his ear. Janus stared a moment before grinning wildly. 

“Yeeeesssss,” He said. “Perfect. Did you finish with the map?”

“Yup. Good to go.” 

—

Remus and Janus waited at the supply closet—their chosen home base for the time being, as it was practically abandoned—while Virgil snuck across the expanse of the building towards the archives. Once he got close, he crawled into the air vents to survey each entrance. 

“Well, let’s hope these work,” He muttered. He reached up and flicked on the switch to his earpiece. “This is, uh…this is agent Morris.” 

The earpiece crackled in his ear and Virgil winced. Slowly, though, it became clearer and clearer. 

“Agent Morris, we read you. What’s the status on the archives?”

“Main entrance is locked, as I figured. There’s an emergency exit in the back that leads to a stairwell, but they have a supervisor there. However, there’s a vent up here that we could slip through to get it.”

“Awesome. Remus and I will be there soon.” The comms fizzled out.

—

In the following 22 hours, the team got shot at, chased down hallways, and hid inside cases within the third story archives. But they came out of the Director’s Archive, grinning with half-burnt clothing and a thin file full of the former Director’s information. 

They strode into the trainee gym to see Agent Karnin waiting patiently. She was seated at the exact centre of the gym. When she saw them come in, she furrowed her brows. 

“Virgil, Janus, and Remus? You’re…back?” 

“Yes ma’am,” They said in unison. Virgil handed the file to Agent Karnin, and she flipped through it, her face lifting in surprise. Finally, she spoke. 

“Incredible. Only 24 hours. That might even be a record with the agency,” she said, standing up. “Congratulations on passing your first year exams, trainees. You are dismissed for the following 24 hours, until the rest of the trainees return. And boys?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Get some new clothes, would you?”

The trio nodded. As soon as the door to the trainee gym closed, their expressions changed from the sober formalities to playful grins. 

“Hell yeah, guys. We made it!” Virgil exclaimed. 

“We sure did,” Janus grinned, his arms wrapped around Remus and Virgil. “We sure did.”

——

_PRESENT DAY_

“Look, Virgil obviously doesn’t want to be found right now, Janus. You need to give it a break.” Remus leaned against the equipment boards in the COTECH issued van. 

“I’m fine,” Janus said, sifting through security camera footage on his laptop. Remus crossed the small space of the van and pushed the laptop closed, which resulted in an indignant splutter from Janus. 

“He. Will. Find. Us,” Remus pressed.

“How can you be sure about that? Literally anything could happen. He’s never done this before. He could run off with that agent—”

“Will us trying to hunt him down help?” Remus said. “You are a master tracker. But Virgil is the one person _you can’t track._ I know he’s your family, but you can’t control him forever. The RIIS agent will break Virgil’s heart and he’ll come back to us. Just watch.”

“I don’t want to watch. I don’t want Virgil to get hurt, Remus,” Janus said. 

“Everyone needs to go through it eventually,” Remus muttered. “He’s never been in a relationship before. Not a serious one. He needs to learn.”

Janus heaved a heavy sigh. 

“Then let’s call it.”

——

Roman woke up early the next morning to the scent of something sweet. Not unlike a lilac. Something…

Ah. 

He buried his face deeper into Virgil’s hair, breathing in the scent. 

“What’re you doing there, Princey?” Virgil mumbled, shifting around beneath him. 

“Your hair smells like lilacs.” 

“Does it?” 

Roman nodded. They laid there in silence for a moment. 

“Roman.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t stay here.” Roman furrowed his brows.

“Why not?”

“COTECH will need me back. The cover won’t last long, and I need to make sure they don’t think I’ve betrayed them.”

“I understand. I wish I didn’t, but I do.” Roman waited for another minute before he got out of bed and stretched his arms up. 

Virgil groaned. “Jeez, I forgot to even take off my coat. Been sleeping like this all night.” 

“That’s bound to leave a mark. Don’t you keep like, seven knives in there?”

“Eight.”

“What the hell. How do you not stab yourself every five seconds,” Roman asked, shocked. 

“Specialized fabric,” Virgil said. He took one of said knives out of his pocket and pulled his sleeve taught. Then he drew the blade across the sleeve. When the blade was removed, there was no break in the fabric. “It’s not bulletproof, though. Only…blade-proof.”

“Impressive,” Roman whistled. “The things I never knew.”

“Perk of being in COTECH,” Virgil shrugged. 

“Hard pass,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow. They remained in silence for while longer. 

“You know, they never got that chip out.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. It’s still somewhere in my body. Problem is, I can’t remember where. They’re going to do surgery in a couple of days if I can’t remember it by then.”

“That’s…odd. So the agency’s information hasn’t been leaked?” A flower of hope bloomed against Roman’s will. 

“Nope. Not yet.”Virgil’s voice was rough as he spoke. He paused, as if he were about to add something, but decided against it.

The door to the hotel room suddenly burst open. Roman’s head snapped in that direction to see Logan staring down the barrel of a gun. Virgil mistakenly flipped his knife up and aimed it at Logan. 

Logan shot Virgil in the shoulder, sending him toppling backwards. 

“Logan!!”

“C’mon, we have to get you out of here,” Logan ran to Roman and grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of the room. Roman glanced back and saw Virgil laying on the bed. His chest rose and fell once before they had exited the room and he sighed with a secret relief. 

_I’m so sorry, Virgil. That’s all I can do. We can’t blow our cover._

Logan let go of his wrist. “Are you alright, Roman? Did he hurt you?” They fell into pace as they raced towards the stairwell, Roman glancing back every couple of feet. 

“Fine. Broke my stitches, but that was a couple of days ago. I was able to stitch it back up,” Roman huffed, his stomach churning. _It’s just acting. You have to act like he’s the enemy, Roman._

_Or your entire life will shatter into pieces._

“I’ll take another look at it later to make sure,” Logan responded, looking straight ahead. “I was worried about you. After he stabbed you I knew he could hurt you again. Worse, probably.” Roman’s eyes flicked down as they reached the bottom of the stairwell.

“Where have you been, Lo?”

“Throwing COTECH off your trail. They had one of their best agents tracking me—I’m about 85 percent sure it was Deceit—but he had to leave. Replaced him with an eighteen-year-old.” 

“Damn. What’d you do?”

“I recruited them. They’re at our agency. The other agent left, apparently, because one of _their_ agents had gone missing. I have a feeling it was Deceit looking for Virgil.” Roman’s gut twisted once more as he heard the name roll off Logan’s tongue.

“Likely. Are you staying at RIIS?”

“I’m staying _with_ RIIS. I can’t guarantee I’ll be around. But when I heard you were captured by that agent, I had to find you. He’s incredibly dangerous.”

Roman smirked at the irony. “He sure is.”

By this time they were well out of the hotel and had reached a sleek car parked on the corner. Logan pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the car, gesturing for him to enter on the passenger side. 

“Nice ride.”

“Thank you. RIIS issue.” Logan put the safety on his gun and tossed it into the backseat as he backed up. “We must get out of here quickly. No doubt COTECH will soon be on our trail.”

“Agreed.”

——

Virgil gasped for breath from the spot where he lay. His right shoulder was throbbing from the bullet. It had only grazed, but the bullets stung and gave him a shock. 

_Good job, Roman. You kept our cover_ , He thought and sighed with a bit of relief. _Don’t worry. I’ll update you as soon as I can._

After recovering from the shock, he pushed himself up and walked slowly towards the bathroom. He took one of the hand towels and pressed it into the offending spot, causing him to wince. When the bleeding was mostly contained, he shrugged off his jacket and pushed off the shoulder of his black shirt below. Then he patched up the wound with some bandages and medical tape, until he thought it would be sufficient to make a trip home. His arm was sore, so he decided against the grappling hook as he shrugged the coat back on. 

_What the hell even happened yesterday?_

_I started it wanting to escape from Roman as quickly as I could. And now I wish he had never left._ He smiled softly as he thought about how they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. _God, he’s such a dork. Who am I kidding, we’re both dorks._

_Two idiots from rival agencies accidentally meeting._

_It’s cruel, honestly. The way life got in the way._

_I just hope we can find a way through it._

_——_

Roman was taken in for medical evaluation as soon as he returned to the base. The doctors on staff replaced his stitches with staples and cleaned the wound. Afterwards, he was asked to answer questions with a missions evaluator—who would undoubtedly submit his responses to the Review Board. The process took almost an hour, but his answers were solid. A couple of hours later, while sitting at Logan’s temporary apartment, he got the announcement that he had been cleared from mission suspension.

“Excellent. I am glad that didn’t last too long,” Logan said upon hearing the news. 

“You know, I wanted to ask you something, Logan,” Roman said. “After Virgil captured me, I casually brought up Patton. They were best friends since childhood, right?”

“That is correct.” Roman noticed that Logan’s jaw tightened as he said it. 

“Well, he didn’t remember Patton at all. Had no idea who I was talking about.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a lie to preserve himself?” 

“When I read him, there were no flickers of recognition in the slightest. To my knowledge it wasn’t a façade.” 

“That’s…highly improbable,” Logan said, turning towards Roman with a look of fascination flickering in his eyes.

“I know. The memory drug he had should only have suppressed his training as an agent. Not anything longer than that. And it definitely should not have added memories. Memory drugs can’t do that.”

“No, they can’t…this is fascinating.”

“I think we should talk to Patton. He couldn’t hurt a fly, but maybe he was present at the time Virgil started taking the drugs. It could’ve affected him.”

“I—I don’t think it is necessary.” Logan’s face took on a hint of color. 

“Logan? Is there something you need to tell me?” Roman pressed. 

“Well…Patton and I left on bad terms. Sort of. I needed to leave for your safety. I couldn’t stand for COTECH to use you and Patton against me again, so I tried to isolate myself. He—he told me he loved me and I panicked because. Well. I knew he did, but I also was _incredibly_ underprepared for him to actually say anything and so I just said “I know” and walked out. And I highly regret the way I treated him, but I was in the mindset of isolating myself so I thought it was something I had to do.”

“Oh man. Yeah, Logan, you hit some pretty big red lights there. Honestly, though, I think the best thing you could do right now is talk to him.”

“I _really_ do not think he would take kindly to me showing up again.” Roman’s expression softened. 

“Maybe not at first. But you never apologized, and now you have a chance to mend that,” Roman said gently. Logan considered a moment before nodding. 

“Alright. Then let’s find Patton.”

——

When they pulled up to Patton’s house, Logan hesitated again. The two decided it would be better if Logan went in first to talk to Patton about the events, while Roman waited for a couple of minutes before delivering the news. Logan took a deep breath, then another, then nodded and got out of the car. 

When he knocked on the door, it took a couple of seconds before Logan heard the tapping of footsteps. Another couple of seconds, and the door creaked open. 

_Patton._

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, neither one sure of what to do. 

“Logan? What are you doing here?” Patton said slowly, his voice soft. 

“Patton, I…” He took a deep breath. “I made a mistake. Leaving you like that. I need to apologize.” Patton searched Logan’s eyes and nodded. 

“Come inside.”

Logan cautiously stepped through the doorway, scanning his new surroundings. He hadn’t been to Patton’s home often—only when invited, of course—but he knew that not much had changed. His home had a long banister with picture frames on it, and behind that a small cushioned living room. 

Patton had disappeared into the other room and Logan stood there awkwardly, not sure what the social cues were supposed to be at this part of the conversation. Or lack thereof. 

“Patton?” Logan turned around awkwardly, not sure what part of the house the man was in at the moment. He raised his voice to project to wherever that was. “Patton, I should not have pushed you away like I did. I was not prepared to deal with… _feelings,_ ” Logan shivered at the word before taking a deep breath, “And I made an irrational decision to avoid them, because my deduction had been that staying away from you would keep you safer. I realize now that I was wrong. Last time I left you, they kidnapped me and used you as a bargaining chip to get me to do what they wanted. If I had never separated myself from you, it would not have happened. I interpreted my evidence incorrectly. Please, Patton, wherever you are…please forgive me.”

Logan located the tapping of footsteps coming from the kitchen. Patton walked slowly into the foyer room, his head down and his hands twisting nervously. 

After a moment of penetrating silence, Patton lifted his head, a grin on his face (much to Logan’s relief). 

“Ooh, Logan just admitted he has _feelings_ ,” Patton teased. The edge of Logan’s cheeks colored against his will. 

“Ah. Here we go again,” Logan quipped, attempting to keep his façade of calm as Patton burst into giggles. 

“I think that was the closest you’ve ever gotten to _not_ sounding like a dictionary when you talk, Lo!” Patton exclaimed. Logan scratched the back of his head, his ability to conceal his feelings rapidly deteriorating. 

“D—do you…do you forgive me, then?” Logan said tentatively. Patton looked up at him with a grin; though it was much softer this time. 

“Of course I do, Lo,” Patton whispered back. Suddenly, he grabbed Logan by his tie and began tugging him back into the kitchen. The spy, dumbfounded, followed in awe as Patton began to scold him. “But if you pull anything like that again I swear I will find out about it and the rage of Patton himself will be unstoppable.”

“O-Okay, I promise not to do it again,” Logan said, trying to suppress laughter at Patton’s attempt at intimidation. His expression lacked any actual anger, and without that, Patton looked like a little bird with its plumage puffed out. Logan thought it was quite endearing—not that he was going to admit that to anyone, ever. “So, uh, where am I being taken now?”

“Here!” Patton said, suddenly stopping in his tracks. He gestured to the countertop, which had rack upon rack of cooling cookies on it. He looked proudly at his work as Logan adjusted his glasses. 

“This has certainly taken you some time,” Logan gawked as he examined the sheer number of cookies. 

“Stress baking. And normal baking. I just really like baking. Plus, I’m going to donate all of these ones…”

Patton continued to talk as if not a single bad day had passed between them. Logan’s heart of stone warmed bit by bit as his friend continued to ramble on about his creations. 

_This. This is what I want in life._

_This is perfect._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and some kudos! <3
> 
> This chapter was originally going to be much darker than it ended up being, but I'm glad about that. The Sides needed a bit of a break. 
> 
> Side note: Should I write mini song fics to go with this series? I feel like it could be a neat way to expand my writing base as it's something I have not tried before.


	17. Standard Románce, I Guess??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance. Angst. Scandal. Flirting on the job. It's the whole package. 
> 
> Have fun. (8,000 words of fun)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW this was a long chapter to write. But I freakin love it.
> 
> BIG, BIG WARNINGS: Violent images. Stop at "Suddenly the room seemed..." to "White light illuminated the..."  
> Out of body experience. Stop at "Suddenly the room seemed..." to "Virgil opened his eyes to his..."  
> Moment of anxiety (kind of an attack but not quite). Stop at "But if they're avoiding it..." to "He was able to brace..."
> 
> Also, Roman's clock is on military time, so I apologize for any confusion.

“I know it’s not…the greatest news to hear right now.” Roman pushed his hair back from his forehead. 

“No. It’s not,” Patton mumbled into a mug of hot cocoa. “He forgot me. He’s evil, and he forgot me.”

“I’m afraid so,” Logan said, his voice solemn. The trio sat in silence until Roman finally spoke up. 

“I know this might not be the best time to ask this, but I think it’ll help us fix this problem. Can you tell me how you know Virgil? And, if you can, some details about the high school years would be helpful.” Roman glanced at Logan, who nodded in understanding. 

“Y-yeah. So…we met in sixth grade. I saw him sitting alone, and, well, I was alone too. So I decided to sit next to him. At first he told me to go away and tried to hide from me under his hoodie, but I stayed there. And I came back the next day. He seemed surprised that I wanted to come back. It took some warming up, but we became really close after that. He was known for being the…I hate to say it, but the ‘freak’ of our grade. People were so scared of him that no one would bully him. They still bullied me, but Virgil always stood up and protected me. That’s why we’re so close. We protect each other.” 

Roman smiled softly, a faint dusting of rose gracing his cheeks. 

Logan cleared his throat. “What happened during high school?”

“Well, things were mostly the same then. He got a job during sophomore year of school and pulled all sorts of crazy hours. And then…well, then his anxiety got a lot worse. He’d take out minor failures on himself and push himself into a crazy cycle of hate…and then he’d work harder and harder. I had to remind him to eat sometimes. Twice I had to take him home from his job because he’d passed out. He started putting black eyeshadow under his eyes to cover up the dark circles, claiming that he was ‘already the embodiment of a dark and stormy night and it just matched the aesthetic.’” Patton smiled, but it was a smile of shattered nostalgia, not of joy, and it faded quickly. “But I could tell he was hiding those dark circles, so I begged him over and over to quit his job. Every day. He insisted that he needed the money, which is understandable, but after a long time he told me that he had found a new job. I was so happy for him. It started in August of our senior year—but he didn’t tell me that it was some sort of full time deal. Apparently whoever employed him gave him full tuition to some private school, and so he left.” Logan put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Patton.”

“N-no, no, it’s okay,” Patton said with a sniff. “The thing is, given his financial situation, this was the best option for him. Even if that meant becoming more distant. He still visited me, afterwards, but it was pretty infrequent for a while. Then a couple of months ago he moved back in and started shipping packages in the area, and so I was able to visit him more often. Apparently he had been lifting boxes since he left for the academy. But…that just makes me confused with how he joined COTECH and all that.”

“Patton, did he ever mention what academy he went to?” Roman asked. 

“Uhh…Some ‘Institute for Science and Technology.’ But I think that was more of just a fancy name. See, Virgil was always more of a humanities person. Always writing poems and stories in his spare time. I think I still have his journal somewhere…”

Roman looked at Logan. “That must have been when COTECH recruited him. COTECH started as a technological research organization, with a branch in the intelligence division, but they were condemned by the public after they started doing illegal experimentation on their subjects. He would’ve joined right before the first scandal trials were leaked. Before they had to go underground.”

“That is correct. That’s also when a newer brand of intelligence agents started showing up—ruthless ones. They put RIIS on overtime for a long time as we tried to catch up with their skill sets.”

“But…why did he forget about me?”

“I—I’m not sure yet. Given his history, I suspect it has something to do with the memory drugs he took. When he moved into town, he started taking the memory drugs to forget COTECH, because he was on a mission. Remembering who he was working for and where he hid some valuable information would compromise him. They were simply a protection measure, but I have a strong feeling that they were only experimental drugs and some of the elements of his memory never came back. There could be a lot he is missing without even knowing it,” Logan explained. He suddenly scrunched his brows. “Huh. That’s odd. I wonder what happened to those files that he took. If he had turned them over, they would’ve caused chaos in the agency by now. But here we are…”

Roman fell silent. He remembered Virgil stating exactly the reason why, but saying it might compromise… _them_. 

_Whatever we are._

_But…I could just_ suggest _it. Couldn’t do any harm if RIIS came up with the theory ‘independently.’_

_Would that risk Virgil and my relationship?_

“What if…he forgot about that too?” Patton suggested, causing Roman’s shoulders to relax. Logan’s eyes hovered over Roman for a second longer before returning to Patton.

“That is very likely,” Logan said. “Which is good for us. And it might mean we’ll have to track him down and bring him in for questioning. We could simultaneously figure out the situation with the chip and with his memory of you.” He stood up, and Roman followed suit reluctantly. 

“Do you need to go?” Patton said, sensing the change in mood of the conversation. 

“I’m afraid so,” Logan responded. “I need to update the agency. Thank you, Patton, for everything.” He gave Patton a look full of meaning before nodding. Roman got the cue and followed Logan to the door.

“Goodbye, Patton,” Roman said. 

“Bye, Roman. Good luck on all of this.”

“Thank you,” He responded, before closing the door behind them.

Roman’s mind was racing with fear unlike what he had felt before. His body pushed him mechanically towards Logan’s car; towards the inevitable pursuit of his lover, while his mind kept tugging him away. 

_Run away,_ it said. _Take Virgil with you. Go into hiding._

But he could not…RIIS had to be his first priority. Virgil had said so himself, and Roman had to hold himself to that. Otherwise both of them would be in danger. 

_He will understand._

_He will understand._

——

Roman was assigned to his next mission three days later, after an unexpected fight broke out between two local gangs. RIIS had sent a representative to the scene to help delegate the situation and make peace between the two sides, but the mission had failed and the agent was captured by one of the gangs. Roman’s job was to extract the agent and return them safely so that another RIIS crew could come in and break up the conflict. This was made more difficult by the fact that the gangs were barricaded up inside an abandoned warehouse, which meant close combat, guerrilla-like fighting. And ricocheting bullets. 

Roman entered the building through a small shaft in the ceiling of the warehouse, trying to take stock of the conflict below. There was a lot of grey area on where one gang ended and the other began. It took him several minutes of surveying the area to find what he was looking for: The agent Moretti, who was restrained in a chair on the far side of the warehouse. An older-looking gang member appeared to be guarding her. Roman used the rafters in order to reach the other side of the dusty arena, watching closely at the dynamics below him. He noticed that one side seemed to be heavily relying on gunfire to assert their position, whereas the other side relied more on skill and tactic. It was an interesting observation, albeit not very useful. Except…

His thoughts were cut off by a sudden shaking he felt in the rafters. Roman looked behind him to locate the noise, but all he could see was the empty wood and metal paneling behind him. Clouds of dust obscured part of his vision, and the particles that got caught in his eyes could not be wiped away because his hands were also covered in the stuff. After waiting for a minute or two with no more movement, Roman elected to venture on, paying less and less attention to the cacophony below. From then on, the only disturbance was the occasional ricocheting bullet, which whizzed past and was gone. In just a couple of minutes he was directly above the gang’s base. He quickly unclipped a bundle of climbing rope from his belt and began tying safety knots into the rafters so he could make a quick descent. As he did so, he saw agent Moretti glance up at the rafters for the third time. She knew he was there. It was only a matter of time before he—

A sudden impact in his left side jolted Roman out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. He skidded backward through the dust and his right shoulder jammed itself into a pole. He winced before turning his back to the pole, squinting to get a glimpse of his opponent. The dust had been disturbed so that it shrouded this other person’s figure, though Roman estimated that they had to be an agent, not a gang member. They were incredibly light on their feet. 

He saw a dark shape coming towards him and ducked in just enough time to not get hit by his adversary’s leg. Instead, he reached out and grabbed it, tugging it out from underneath them. Roman heard a dull thud as his adversary hit the floor, raising another cloud of dust. He acted quickly, bracing both of the agent’s legs underneath one of his own. The agent twisted to the side, trying to free themselves, before thrusting their upper body forward. _Oh no. Here comes close combat._

Before Roman had time to react, the agent had pushed Roman forward and onto his back with a knife at his throat. They held this position for a couple of beats, which gave Roman time to analyze the dust covered face before him as he planned a retaliation. The agent was wearing a pair of goggles that were coated in a film of dust along with some sort of handkerchief or cloth covering their nose and mouth. Roman squinted, half wishing he had brought the same supplies. 

Suddenly, the agent on top of him relaxed and took the knife away from his throat. 

“Roman?” Came a muffled voice behind the fabric. The agent lifted a hand to their face and pushed back their goggles, revealing a familiar face. 

“Virgil,” Roman whispered. Virgil leaned backward to get off of Roman, instead electing to sit beside him. Roman watched the rise and fall of his chest slow down as he asked, “How is your shoulder? I wish I didn’t have to leave you there, but—”

“You did the right thing,” Virgil assured him. “My shoulder’s okay, Logan only grazed it. Plus, spies are supposed to be able to recover from any injury in a timely manner, right?” Virgil moved to wipe his face of the dust residing there, but stopped about halfway there when he saw his hand. 

“So, I assume you’re here on mission?”

“Yup. We’ve got a couple of guys on the inside that agitated this little conflict. I’m here to survey and, well, eliminate any RIIS agents in the vicinity.”

“So you’re going after my charge, is what you’re saying?” Roman huffed. 

“Essentially, yes.” 

“Well, this will be fun.”

“You know, between you and me,” Virgil said, examining his nails, “I’m not really interested in capturing an agent from a rival agency today. But I do think COTECH would be disappointed if we didn’t…well, put on a show.”

“You want to duke it out?” Roman raised a brow. 

“Why not? I could use some sparring practice, anyways.” Virgil pulled his goggles down over his head. Roman smirked, and the two stood up, backing away from each other. Virgil pointed a foot out in front of him and slid it across the floor in the shape of a semicircle until it was placed behind him, lifting another cloud of the newly settled dust. 

It was Roman who made the first move—striking forward and aiming for Virgil’s arm. Virgil dodged and rolled behind Roman, flinging up more dust with the tails of his coat. Roman hooked his hand around Virgil’s foot as he skidded across the floor, catching him before he slid off the edge of the planks in the rafters. He planted his foot and yanked Virgil backwards, sending him tumbling back onto Roman. Virgil took advantage of this position to pin Roman’s arms to his sides and lean into Roman’s face. 

“You want to do dinner sometime?” He said beneath the muffling of the scarf. Roman used his legs to roll over on top of Virgil. 

“I’m interested. When?” Virgil brushed a strand of curly hair out of Roman’s eyes before proceeding to throw him off and to the side. He quickly stood and planted his feet again. 

“You free tonight?” Roman slid forward to attack again, but Virgil grabbed a chain hanging from the ceiling and used it to swing around him, coming around again to kick Roman in the back. His plan failed, however, as Roman whirled around and grabbed Virgil’s waist. The spinning kicked up dust in a spiral around them, and as it began to settle they found themselves in a tight embrace, Roman’s arms around Virgil. Virgil stared up at Roman, glad to have the mask covering his burning cheeks. 

“I could be free tonight,” Roman said with a smirk. Virgil felt like he was about to faint, his heart racing from what he assured himself was the pace of the battle. He could swear he smelled Roman’s cologne beneath the layers of dust. 

_God damn, he’s handsome,_ Virgil thought. _Oh, and he knows it. What an ass._ He grinned to himself beneath the mask. 

Virgil decided to use the position to his advantage and shove Roman into the wooden beam behind him, effectively winding the spy. Roman doubled over, but it only took a couple of seconds to get him back on his feet. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulders and spun him around, planting him in the spot where he had just been. He leaned into Virgil’s ear and whispered, “Where will I be meeting you?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes playfully. “Six o’clock at your place.” 

“It’s a date,” Roman said. Virgil heard a click just before Roman backed away, and his grin fell as he realized what Roman had done.

“Seriously? Again with the handcuffs?” Virgil said, struggling to free himself. 

“Remember, Virge, I’m still on duty.” He winked, causing heat to rise to Virgil’s face both out of attraction and frustration. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think you could escape. Plus…I have to make it look real.”

“I’ll get you back for this,” Virgil said, only half threateningly.

“I’m sure of it,” Roman responded, walking towards the ropes he had set up already. “Catch you at 6, my chemically imbalanced romance!” 

Before Virgil had a chance to fire back, Roman leaped down into the abyss of the warehouse. Virgil smirked underneath the mask, wondering again how he managed to get himself into this predicament. He bent his wrist and used the tips of his fingers to coax out a pin, setting to work on picking the lock as he had learned. In just a couple of minutes, the cuffs fell to the floor and Virgil took off in a cloud of dust.

“See you at six, Princey.”

——

Virgil arrived back at COTECH’s barracks around 4:30 and immediately began preparations for the…meeting? Date? Were they even in the right place to be calling it a date? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was, despite flying around the city with a grappling hook to get back to the building, he was still covered in thick layers of dust. It clung to every crevice and he could feel it underneath the layers of clothing. Janus had seen him in the hallway and practically ordered him to take a shower, which Virgil had planned on doing anyway. Janus then promised to come back later and visit, which…might pose a bit of a problem. 

_First things first. I need to get the hell out of this outfit._

Fifteen minutes of showering and scrubbing later, he finally felt liberated from the suffocating dust. The feeling of cleanliness gained a new meaning inside his head, and he was grateful he had been able to freshen up.

Before he was completely dressed again, he glanced down at the scarring across his leg—Remus’s doing—and frowned. The markings were still deeply impressed into his skin, and he was still reminded of it occasionally when he slid across surfaces or something of the likes. On rare occurrences, the cuts would still break and bleed. 

Remus had really done a number on him. _Which is kind of a strange thing for a friend to do to someone._

_Thought I guess he was doing it to protect me, in some sort of twisted way._

Virgil shook his head. _No, not twisted. What am I thinking? He’s doing his job. I had to do mine as well._

_And a spy has to learn to recover from any blow. Otherwise, what are we?_

He let these thoughts swirl through his head as he stared at the scarring, before they slowly melted into thoughts of Roman. He remembered when they had first escaped the building, and the excruciating pain running through his leg. How Roman had carried him for blocks upon blocks—despite the fact that they hardly knew each other—just to protect Virgil. Maybe it had been because Virgil was technically his charge, but…Roman didn’t know that at the time. He thought they had gotten the wrong guy. 

He could’ve cut the handcuffs and dropped him off somewhere. 

Maybe he _was_ just Roman’s charge then, but it still made his heart swell in a way he hadn’t known was possible.

And Virgil remembered how Roman had reacted when Virgil attacked him, that first time at the pool. He had brushed off the pain as if it was nothing, even if it was such a violation of trust. Roman stayed by his side. 

How Roman opened up his heart for Virgil time after time despite knowing he could easily rip it apart—and Virgil had. The thought sent a pang of guilt into his stomach. 

_It may sound weak of him, especially being a spy,_ _but he sure as hell is resilient,_ Virgil thought fondly. _I don’t know where I’d be if he wasn’t._

_But I do know that I need to show him that I l—care for him too. That I’m not just going to hurt him again._

There was another memory…something deeper, tugging at the corner of his mind. At first he brushed it off, but the tugging became more incessant and he eventually gave in, turning his focus to it. 

Suddenly the room seemed to contort around him and he shuddered as he prepared for whatever happened next. He looked around as the space began to settle, trying to get his bearings. A darkened room, lit faintly by a small white lightbulb hanging from a strand in the ceiling. He was standing directly underneath it. In the corner of the room, something white reflected light off its surface. He tiptoed closer. 

_That’s…oh._

It was a pale white hand, a trickle of dried blood lacing the thumb. There was more, a body attached, but it was obscured by shadow. Only a slight silhouette indicated the slight figure attached. Virgil shivered, backing up away from the corpse. 

Or, well, he had presumed it was a corpse. Until it started twitching. Virgil put his hand out behind him, feeling for the wall. He fell backward onto the floor as the _thing_ made its way into the light. 

White light illuminated the pale face…of himself. 

**_“Virgil.”_ **

_“Get away from me. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Virgil screamed, but the sound didn’t carry. He was trapped in some bubble._

_“_ **_Listen to me. I’m not trying to hurt you.”_ ** _Other Virgil rolled his shoulders, and by the time they came back to a resting position, he was wearing the familiar black hoodie with erratically sewn purple and black patches._

_“Then what the hell was that?” Virgil recoiled, feeling for the wall. Where was the wall?_

_“_ **_That was me blocking a very unpleasant memory.”_ ** _The scenery faded to a soft grey around them, dissolving any sensation that they were in a room._

_“_ My _memory? I don’t remember that.”_

_“_ **_Precisely. And right now you really don’t need to. So I’m here. Instead of you seeing what actually happened that night,”_ ** _Other Virgil said, scratching the back of his head. The blood lining his thumb had disappeared, and Virgil absently noted that the sleeves of Other Virgil’s hoodie had zippers on the ends, much like his own overcoat._

_“Why did that just happen?”_

**_“I—I don’t know. Theoretically speaking, it shouldn’t have.”_ ** _Other Virgil scrunched his brows._ **_“Huh. I’m not really sure why I just said that._ ** _”_

_Virgil raised a brow. “Sorry, what?”_

**_“I don’t know. There’s…There’s something missing? But…Roman can help. Roman knows something. I—I don’t know what.”_ **

_“Seriously? And how am I supposed to find out what that is?”_

**_“Well, you’re going on a date with him tonight, right?”_ **

_“Okay, first of all, that’s none of your business.”_

_“_ **_Virgil, I’m literally a part of your subconscious._ ** _”_

_“_ Secondly _, it’s not a date. Officially,” Virgil added. Other Virgil sighed. Or, well, Virgil assumed it was a sigh, although it wasn’t completely tangible._

_“_ **_It doesn’t matter whether or not it’s a date. You need to tell him about this. He knows something. Or, he will be able to. Or…something.”_ ** _Other Virgil scrunched his brows._

_“That’s not very convincing. Why can’t I just talk to Janus about it? He’s known me for much longer than Roman.”_

_“_ **_No,_ ** _” Other Virgil said suddenly. He shivered. Or maybe it was Virgil shivering._

_“Well that was definitive. Why n—”_

_“_ **_Janus can’t help you. He—He can’t know what Roman knows._ ** _”_

_“Okay, back off. Being a part of my subconscious does not by any means make you an oracle. Plus, none of what you’re saying makes sense.”_

_“_ **_Talk to Roman and it will.”_ **

_“Okay, dude, I’ll talk to Roman. Can you just, like, chill for five seconds? Or can’t I make you go away somehow?” Virgil waved his hand in front of Other Virgil’s face. “Go away.”_

_“_ **_Fighting your subconscious will not make it go away. You should know this by now._ ** _” Virgil sighed, hating to admit he was right. After a moment, he nodded._

_“I’ll listen to you. I’ll talk to Roman. Then maybe we’ll be able to figure this all out.”_

Virgil opened his eyes to his room, which remained unchanged. He blinked a couple of times before checking the clock. 

5:20. _Better finish getting ready, then._

The methodical rhythm of finding the right clothes for a…an _outing_ helped Virgil take his mind off the troubling images he had seen. Eventually he settled on a simple look: black dress pants, a royal purple button down shirt, and a black tie. He decided on cuff links as an afterthought, and grabbed a simple pearl-accented pair that Janus had given him a long time ago (“ _Wear these with your dress shirts. You look like a heathen”_ ). He let out a breathy laugh as he thought of how stuffy Janus was in terms of fashion rules. 

By 5:40 Virgil was completely dressed with his hair slightly combed down. He put on his backup coat—he’d need more time to wash his original, with the thick layers of dust it still had on it. Plus, this coat looked more like a suit jacket, and had plenty of knife storage areas—when he suddenly heard a knock on the door.

_Janus. I forgot that he was stopping by._ Virgil gulped, checking his apartment quickly to see if it would pass a neat-freak inspection. Satisfied, he opened the door. 

“Virgil…you’re certainly dressed up. _And_ wearing the cuff links, I see. Whatever for?” Janus observed curiously, inspecting Virgil’s outfit just as the latter had anticipated.

“I’m going out.”

“Out where?” Janus’s eyes narrowed, but there was no sign of malice. Only the usual mom-friend-syndrome that Virgil was much accustomed to. 

“I feel like revisiting the place where I downloaded all those RIIS agent files and injected it into my system. I think it will help me remember where it is currently,” Virgil said, satisfied with the lie. Janus raised a brow.

“And you think you did this in…a formal restaurant?” 

“It’s one of my hunches, though I can’t be sure. I have a couple of locations pinned down.” 

After a few seconds of excruciating silence, Janus nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Alright. Be back soon, though. I want to hear about why you came back covered in dust.”

“Sure thing, Jan. I should be back by…hm. I’m not sure. It’ll depend on how long I take at each stop. But I promise I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Very well. And Virgil?”

“Yeah?” Virgil asked, leaning on the door frame. 

“Did you take your anti-anxiety medication? I noticed you’ve been forgetting it,” He said with concern. Virgil smiled genuinely, tempted to envelop Janus in a hug right then and there. He was always thankful for someone to check up on him the way Janus did.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks, Janus,” He smiled once more, and Janus said a quick goodbye before excusing himself to resume some pressing work before the night was out.

After he was safely out of earshot, Virgil sighed with relief. He checked his watch and locked the door to his room behind him before speed walking to the roof access stairwell. 

On the rooftop, a rush of fear and excitement jolted through him simultaneously, causing Virgil to grin. He smoothed out his shirt once more out of habit before stepping back on the roof, grappling hook in hand. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

And he jumped. 

——

17:58. 

Virgil would be at Roman’s apartment in two minutes. 

Roman scanned over the spacious room for the third time that evening to ensure that it wouldn’t look…well, bad. He wanted to make a good impression.

_I mean…it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. But those were under…different circumstances._

He hoped this time would make up for the past two less-than-nice encounters. To do this, he cleaned the place to the point of sparkling and even picked up a bouquet of flowers for the table. 

_Thank God for the local florists,_ Roman thought, smelling the scent of the homegrown flowers intermingling with Roman’s cooking. 

He wouldn’t call himself the best chef, but he was damn well trying. The dish he decided on was something Logan had shown him back at the academy; it was along the lines of a pesto cavatappi, with fresh tomatoes and parmesan just in case he was vegetaria—

_I’m overthinking this. It’s just a first date. Occassion. Thing._ He furrowed his brows. _Does Virgil even think this is a date?_ Reluctantly he took another glance at his watch. 18:01. _Is he even coming?_

As if on cue, Roman heard a knocking sound. 

From the window. 

He crossed the room to receive his guest, noting that Virgil had also dressed up. With a sigh of relief, he opened the window. 

“Hey,” Virgil said, casually rolling through the window and landing on his feet. 

“Is coming into my apartment through the window going to become a regular thing? I’m asking just so I know whether to keep the window unlocked,” Roman joked, causing Virgil to let out a laugh as he took off his blazer. 

“It might be,” Virgil said. Roman took his blazer and hung it on the coat rack, earning him a grateful smile from Virgil. “In all seriousness, though, the door on the roof was locked. There was a keypad, but I didn’t want to waste the time figuring out the combination.”

Roman chuckled. “Of course you checked the roof first.” Virgil grinned. 

“Hey, flying by grappling hook is arguably the best means of transportation. Ooh, did you make pesto?” Virgil said, his attention immediately diverting to the food. He stalked towards the kitchen with Roman following close behind. Just then, Roman realized this was their first non-circumstantial encounter together. And first encounter with both of them off duty. He blinked twice, trying to wrap his head around it. 

_Virgil_ wanted _to be here. He had a say in the matter. And he came._

He realized how worried he had been before the date. If Virgil hadn’t shown up for this, he might never have shown up. 

There was still hope that he could be w—

_Not too fast, Roman. You can’t rush him._

So instead Roman watched as Virgil inhaled the smell of the pesto, a warm blush creeping over both of their cheeks. 

“So you like pesto?” Roman asked, leaning on the edge of the counter. 

“I love it. Janus used to make it all the time for us.”

“Who’s Janus?” Virgil froze, and a bolt of anxiety launched straight back into Roman’s system as he realized he might have hit a sore mark. “S-sorry, sorry, you don’t have to tell me if they’re not out yet. I respect that.” Virgil’s face colored. 

“No, it’s okay. They’re not someone you would know, anyways,” Virgil covered smoothly. He did not want to start off the…meeting…with a bad mark. Roman seemed to sense this, and moved to change the subject. 

“Ready to eat, then?” He smiled, fixing his composure. Virgil grinned. 

“Hell yeah. I haven’t eaten since five o’clock this morning.” Roman raised a brow as he lifted the pan from the stove to the table. 

“I suppose the dust _would_ squander one’s appetite,” Roman said with a light laugh. 

“That and, I just don’t eat much,” Virgil admitted, already eagerly tearing away at the food. Roman remembered something Patton had said only a couple days previous: _‘I had to remind him to eat sometimes._ ’ He could definitely see why that was true. Virgil prioritized his work over everything. 

Which kind of made Roman feel a mite bit special.

And he was glad Virgil was eating his food. 

“Does it…taste okay?” He asked slowly as he took his first few bites. 

“ _Okay?_ This is _amazing,_ ” Virgil said. “I have no idea how you’re supposed to make this, but it’s really good.”

“I could teach you the recipe someday. I learned it from a friend.”

“That would be great. I need to up my cooking skills,” Virgil said. 

“Do you have a kitchen at your apartment?” Roman asked, eyeing the flowers and wondering if Virgil had noticed them.

“I…actually, I live inside a COTECH facility. So…no,” Virgil flushed, not sure why he was embarrassed by that. Maybe he didn’t want to think about work right now.

“That’s okay. I can teach you here, if you’re okay with that. At some point in the future,” Roman added. Virgil nodded in response and resumed eating the pasta. He had cleaned his plate in a matter of minutes, which put Roman in a simultaneous state of shock and relief. 

Relief, because he had been worried the food wouldn’t match Virgil’s tastes. 

Shocked, because Virgil had just casually agreed for another…outing together. At the apartment. 

He smiled to himself as he continued eating. 

A little flicker of hope grew in his chest. 

——

A buzzing sound coming from Logan’s watch jolted the man suddenly out of his concentration. He wasn’t used to receiving such a sound from the device, and his brows furrowed as he imagined what it might be. Curiosity pulled him towards the watch’s face where a small message lay inscribed on the screen. 

_Meet me tonight at 9:30._

_This is a matter of utmost importance_

_and it will do you well to comply,_

_for both our sakes and for the_

_protection of our friends._

Logan furrowed his brows. He read the message once more and studied the coordinates below before realization dawned on him. His deductive reasoning told him exactly who the message was from. 

And he wished he had never seen it. 

——

As Roman and Virgil talked and drank the wine that Roman had provided, they grew less and less stiff in their surroundings. They talked about hobbies, their families…everything they could to skirt around the discussion of their jobs. Which was hard, as their jobs took up most of their time. 

But Roman had watched Virgil gradually loosen up until he was the laid-back, witty companion he saw only slivers of on the job. His dry humor captivated Roman and gave his eyes a twinkle that only added to his already attractive features. 

Virgil noticed the same relaxation in Roman: How both the wine and the laughter caused his cheeks to flush across the top of the cheekbones (Which Virgil seemed incapable of tearing his eyes from) and allowed him to truly wear his heart on his sleeve. 

All of it felt so natural, as if this had been happening for years. 

When Roman had finished telling yet another eccentric story from his high school years, Virgil remembered the dual purpose of his visit here. The laughter died down, and Virgil realized it was time to propose the question. 

“Hey, Roman?”

“Yeah?” Roman looked up, the grin still visible on his face. 

“There’s…there’s something I need to tell you about.” 

“Woah. I’m getting some interesting vibes from you right now. Are we…good?”

“No—I mean, yeah, _we’re_ good, but…I don’t know. I might not be.” Roman furrowed his brows. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked, his eyes flicking down to Virgil’s leg and back up. 

“Well…okay, this is going to sound really weird. I mean _really_ weird. But I believe I can trust you with this.” Roman nodded, not wanting to interrupt, as if saying something would shatter the fragile bond they had. “Okay. Um. I started getting these…I don’t know, they’re not _visions_ , and I really hope they’re not hallucinations, either. But they’re something really vivid. Like…my whole range of vision becomes this grey open void and I see myself, staring back at me. Except it’s not myself. It’s my face, but in some sort of purple-and-black hoodie—you know, that’s beside the point. But every time I see him, he tells me how I’m missing something. Something from my past. He keeps telling me that I’m forgetting something important—which is _not_ great on the anxiety, I might add—and that…that _you_ know what it is. Or that you can help. You, specifically. He vehemently denied that anyone else could do it. And…apparently he’s part of my subconscious, but I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean or why I can’t stop him from popping up whenever he feels like it.” Virgil looked up finally to measure Roman’s reaction, holding his breath. He was relieved when he was Roman wasn’t looking at him with disgust or discomfort. Instead, he cocked his head to the side. 

“That’s definitely not normal. But it’s okay, we can work through this. Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions that might help me understand?” Virgil flushed as he noted the use of “we” instead of “you,” and was only capable of nodding as a response. “Okay, so first off: when did you start getting these…visions?”

“You remember that time I beat you up in an alleyway?” Roman’s expression more than confirmed the answer. “Yeah…that’s when. I was going to try to escape from the cuffs that night, but this other Virgil stopped me. Told me to save you, and I did. Which I don’t regret doing, by the way.”

Roman nodded, mulling this over. He didn’t say anything for a long while, and Virgil reflected on this first encounter with Other Virgil. Suddenly, a familiar phrase tumbled out of his lips. 

“ _What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet._ ”

Roman furrowed his brows. “Shakespeare. It’s from the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet.”

“It is?” Virgil frowned. “My alleged subconscious said that to me on our first visit. But…I don’t remember reading that book.”

“Seriously? That is trippy. I would’ve thought every school taught that play—aaand based off you expression that’s beside the point,” Roman said, readjusting his red-and-gold bowtie. “Not just anyone can recite Shakespeare that well without having read any of the books. Which suggests that your memory’s been tampered with.”

“Hm,” Virgil uttered, shivering at the thought. “That’s…not good.”

“It’s not. Do you think it could have something to do with the memory drugs you took?” Virgil’s head snapped up.

“How did you—”

“Deduction. No one could forget so completely his identity without the assistance of memory drugs. Logan would’ve detected that you were hiding something within five minutes.” Virgil thought it was interesting how Roman credited Logan, not himself, with the feat. 

“Well…it could be. But I’ve never noticed any problems with them before. Unless…the drugs only erase information that can’t be accessed by muscle memory…hm.” Virgil buried his head in his hands and sighed. Roman reached across the space between their two chairs and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you alright, Virge?” He said softly. 

“I—no. I don’t know. It’s just…I could be forgetting half my life and have no idea. And now I have no control over it. If I ever go on a long-term mission again and use my memory drugs, I could lose so much more. I could forget my friends. I could forget _you,_ ” he said, his voice starting to crack. “What would you do if I walked by one day not knowing who you were?”

Roman’s expression softened. He moved from his chair to sit at Virgil’s feet, gripping tightly to his hand as if it were a lifeline. 

“Virgil, if you forgot me, then I would find you again. I would find you and fall in love with you the same way I fell in love with you when you first called me Princey back in that safe house. I swear, I would help you to remember me.”

“And what if you couldn’t help me remember?” He mumbled, his face feeling hotter and hotter by the second. _Roman’s really passionate about this._

“Then our relationship would be a new beginning. And one day, I would tell you all of this, and how I loved you from the very start. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember me, Virgil, because I will always remember you. And at least we will have that,” Roman said. He lifted Virgil’s hand to his face and kissed it gently, causing both their faces to flush. 

“Okay, first of all, who gave you the right to be so smooth,” Virgil said, his face hiding in his other hand. Roman smirked and raised a brow, causing him to somehow look _more_ attractive— _curse that adorable smirk_ —before Virgil could continue. “Secondly, thank you.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been holding this over my head for a while. And it’s hard to talk to people about…this stuff. You make it easy. I wish I could’ve realized earlier that you were here for me. I wish I could’ve trusted you and stopped _hurting_ you after you were so kind to m—”

“Virge. Listen here. Don’t beat yourself up for that. You didn’t know better, and frankly, if you _had_ just trusted me right off the bat, you wouldn’t be the talented spy that I know you are. You’re here now, and that’s what matters. And I forgive you.”

_And I forgive you._

_I forgive you._

How easily Roman could brush aside the heartbreak for him! How easily he could express his passion, whereas Virgil struggled to form the right words for his own. 

It had been a particular talent of Virgil’s to bottle up emotions such as these…he wasn’t really _allowed_ to have them. 

That’s what it had always been. 

First hiding he was gay. 

Then joining COTECH, which felt like a continuation of everything he had done before.

These emotions weren’t supposed to be felt towards a rival agent. These emotions…they were unnatural. That’s what people said. That’s what Janus would say if he knew about it. Just being here was a betrayal, wasn’t it? 

Wasn’t it? 

But love…love _is_ natural. In all its forms. And it’s not like they were discussing work and such matters—they had carefully avoided it throughout the conversation. 

But if they’re avoiding it…surely it would come up eventually and cause them to argue just like they had at the hotel and then there’d be a whole other mess to sort out and maybe Roman would realize that Virgil’s biases were too powerful and Virgil had trust issues and Virgil was never going to be the perfect boyfriend that Roman wanted and maybe this conversation wouldn’t even matter because Virgil would forget about it and then he’d repeat it all over again to Roman and Roman would get annoyed and not want to have Virgil around because he repeats the same thing all the time and he’s not smart or talented he just has a job with an agency who hates Roman and then COTECH will figure out about it and shut him down and then his friends will hate him and—

“ _Virgil!_ ” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil realized that he had jammed his eyes shut as his anxiety started to heighten. It seemed every muscle in his body had tensed up, preparing for an attack. He noted that he was no longer sitting on a chair; they were on the floor of Roman’s living room. Finally he noted Roman’s concerned eyes; they were slightly watery and very close to his own. “Virgil, are you okay?” 

Virgil gulped as his only response. 

“Okay, breath with me, Virgil. In for 4…hold for 7…Out for 8. Good. Let’s do it again. In for 4…”

The process continued for a couple of minutes, until Virgil had regained control of his surroundings. He was able to brace himself on the floor after a while.

“Virge…I’m sorry if I came on too strong there. I seem to have caused you a lot of stress.” 

“No! No…I’m just…I’m not used to this. Relationships and stuff. I’ve never been in a relationship,” He said in an almost-whisper, “And I don’t really know how to act. I’m so used to bottling up my feelings…and I’m scared what will happen if I don’t.” Roman considered what he said for a moment, before a half smile appeared on his face. 

“The first time’s always the hardest, Virge. Especially in the spy world. No one ever tells you where the lines should be drawn between work and home life. But I know you know this isn’t what COTECH _or_ RIIS would call ideal. Maybe…I think it would be a good idea if we slowed this down. I don’t want you to panic over how to mange the two of these things combined—”

“Wait. Wait, slow things down? As in not see each other?”

“Not necessarily. I’m just saying, we don’t need to put a label on it just yet. I don’t want to push a full time commitment on you, especially with policies as strict as ours.” 

“I…I want to be with you, though.” 

“And you will. You know how I feel about you. I just don’t want to dive in too deep right away and then make us both miserable with the stress of managing it. Would that work for you?”

A small smile appeared on Virgil’s face. “Yeah, that would work. Thank you.” Virgil leaned his head on Roman’s shoulder, and it felt like that space had been created for him. He seemed to fit perfectly in the little nook there, and so they stayed for what felt like hours and mere seconds at the same time. 

At about 22:30 according to Roman’s clock, Virgil realized he should be heading home. Roman agreed, not wanting him to get caught out late at night. Before they said their goodbyes, Virgil grabbed his coat from the door and wrapped Roman in one more embrace. 

“Goodnight, Roman.”

“Goodnight, Virgil,” Roman whispered back. As they drew apart, he laid a kiss on Virgil’s warm cheek, causing him to blush again. Roman smirked once more. “See you again…at some point.”

“Sounds good to me,” Virgil said with a grin. He gave Roman one last look before leaping out the window into the night sky. Roman watched him disappear with a rosy smile playing on his lips before he closed the window and latched it shut. 

_Goodnight, Virgil._

_May we meet again soon._

——

“I imagine you’ve already determined why I brought you here, Logan Fletcher,” A voice said out of the shadows.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Logan responded, adjusting his glasses. “And don’t expect to get away with what you did last time.”

“I don’t plan to. I simply wish to make a deal.”

“Let me see your face.” A pause. Suddenly Logan saw the shadows in front of him stir, and out moved Deceit. There was something…off about the left side of his face, but Logan couldn’t quite determine what it was due to the lighting. 

“The fact that you came here tonight tells me you had your suspicions about Roman and Virgil as well.” 

“How did you hack my watch?” 

“When I was tracking you, I found the codes for it. Only yours, though. I guess then we’ll stay…in correspondence. However. The only reason I’m not attacking you now is because of Virgil. His safety is important to me, as I know Roman’s is for you. Them being _together_ puts us all at risk.”

“I guess that’s one of the few things we can agree on,” Logan said, his eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I want you to make sure they no longer get assigned to missions in the same area. Or, if they are, you get assigned with Roman. That way he will not be allowed to interact with Virgil.”

“You really want Roman to leave Virgil alone, don’t you?”

“Roman will only hurt Virgil. It’s in both of their best interests as spies to stay out of this dangerous affair, wouldn’t you agree? And in return for your efforts, I will ensure that your lover gains complete protection from harm by COTECH. I cannot guarantee the same for you as it would raise far too much suspicion amongst the ranks, which I’m sure you understand.”

Logan hesitated a moment. “Yes.”

“Do we have a deal, then? Separate Roman and Virgil, and I will protect your Patton.” 

“We have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these two just can't have it easy, can they? 
> 
> Thank you so much for leaving kudos and your wonderful comments! <3


	18. Escape Route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! STOP! 
> 
> There are a lot of serious trigger warnings for this chapter. For this reason I urge you not to read certain sections (I will be marking them with this symbol: **** rather than ----) if you have aversions to violence, kidnapping, traumatic events, out of body experience, or torture. Yes, these are serious. I will include synopses of those sections (without the violent descriptions) in the end notes. 
> 
> Thank you all and stay safe.

****

That night was the first time in weeks where Virgil was guaranteed a full night’s rest, and he planned to use it to the best of his ability. By eleven o’clock he was fast asleep in the barracks, with an alarm set for 6 a.m. After that he had an hour to prep for his next assignment—which was more than enough time. 

At about one in the morning, however, he realized his plans were going to change. 

He heard little whispers near the doorway of his room, and his eyes snapped open. He stayed still to see if he could gage their movements, taking in shallow breaths to mimic sleeping. Slowly, very slowly, he slid his hand under his pillow where he kept a knife for occasions such as these. After a minute or so of listening he estimated a minimum of four targets, possibly more. 

_Shuffle shuffle_.

Virgil breathed in. 

_Shuffle shuffle._

One—only one of them—moved towards his nightstand. 

Virgil’s eyes were narrowed to slits, but he could make out the form of the single target, now standing directly next to the bed. There was something in their hand…something dangerous. They flicked it once and Virgil realized what it must contain. 

_Sedative._

He clenched his jaw before jumping up and slashing forward at his first adversary. They screamed and their hands flew to their face, causing them to drop the sedative onto Virgil’s bed. The latter quickly grabbed it from them and looked at his remaining aggressors. 

_Four more. So five total._

_Great._

One of them lunged forward, directly into Virgil’s knife. Virgil tossed him aside but realized quickly that the other three had flocked to block him on either side of the bed. The two on the closest sides grabbed at his legs, throwing him off balance. He attempted to kick out at one of them, but the other dug their hand into Virgil’s old stab wound with a powerful grasp, which gave the third attacker time to swipe the sedative from Virgil’s hand. 

The remaining trio worked like clockwork; as Virgil struggled they threw him down onto the ground, two of them pinning down a leg and an arm each, and the third relieving him of his weapon. 

“Hold him down here,” This third one commanded in an eerily familiar voice. Virgil didn’t have time to recognize it, however, as one of the attackers used their hands to still Virgil’s right arm. He gulped when he realized what was about to happen—the third flicked the sedative again before slowly leaning down and inserting the needle into Virgil’s arm.

“No!” Virgil yelled, gritting his teeth at the sensation. He struggled again, this time jolting the spy holding his left side off balance. 

Two people holding him down was difficult to escape. One was much easier. Virgil swiftly sent a kick to where he thought it would hurt most and used their surprise to punch them in the face, grabbing his weapon as he stood back up. He wobbled a bit on his feet as the sedative began to introduce itself, but he blinked it off, slashing forward where the third target was backing away. His aim was sloppy and he stumbled forward. 

_C’mon, Virge, get it together!_

Virgil’s movements were becoming sluggish. His right leg was barely cooperating, and the same could be said for his arm—Virgil was now fighting left-handed. 

Well…left-sided. His right side was practically dead weight. 

Virgil slashed forward one more time, nicking the chin of the attacker who had injected the sedative. The other attackers quickly retaliated, slamming him down to the ground once more. 

_No. No. I can’t let them get me—_

Everything seemed to be going so fast around Virgil—he tried to will his limbs to move as he wanted them to, but they stayed silent and motionless. He was trapped. He could breathe, but he felt like the oxygen was being stolen from him at the same time. Or maybe that was his vision, slowly receding into cold, black nothingness. 

‘ _Virgil!’_ Some voice called out to him. He didn’t understand it.

Maybe it was time to give in. Let the smooth darkness take him as one of their own.

‘ _Virgil!’_ The voice was growing more and more distant. Finally, he could sleep peacefully. 

‘ _Virgil!’_

_It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You can sleep now._

_Everything’s going to be okay._

****

\----

_The Next Day_

Roman slammed his back against the wall, blocking himself from a string of gunshots. The continual sound echoed off the thin corridors and Roman ducked as one of the stray bullets caused a shower of sparks from above. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun from his shoulder holster, all the while listening for the gunshots to stop or at least get closer. He glanced at his wristwatch and turned on the comms. 

“Agent Fletcher, what’s your status? Gunshots haven’t stopped down here.”

“Working on it. The file transfer is going slower than expected, COTECH’s got a new coding system that’s _very_ difficult to bypass.”

“You’re trying to bypass the _entire thing_?” Roman leaned over the edge of the wall and fired three shots at his pursuers.

“If we try to download the file without bypassing it, their security systems will scramble the information. It’ll be useless for us.” 

“ _Mierda_.” Roman let out an exasperated sigh. 

“I heard that.”

“Look, just try to get it done as quickly as possible. I’m holding them off outside but I’m not sure how much longer I can stall them,” Roman said, glancing over his shoulder again to asses the attackers. He reached out and fired another three shots, hitting two agents. 

“On it. I’m almost through.”

Roman pushed the curly hair back from his face, wiping off perspiration as he went. He rifled through his jacket pockets for extra loads of ammunition and managed to find single container. “C’mon, Logan, a little faster…” He muttered to himself, preparing the next load. He glanced over the edge of the wall protecting him and aimed once more at the rest of the pursuers: there were at least six more firing on him. “Gotta stall. Gotta stall. What do I do now?”

Roman furrowed his brows and hid back behind the wall. 

Suddenly an idea popped into his head. 

“Agent Fletcher, I’m going to buy you some more time.”

There was a pause on the comms before Logan replied. “What? How?”

“Protocol Seventeen.”  
  
“Protocol Seventeen? But there isn’t a—” Logan paused as the realization struck. “Wait, Roman, don’t do that. Bad idea. Stay where you are, I repeat, stay where you are. Agent Phillips, _confirm!_ Last time you pulled that stunt—” Logan heard the comms system flick off and his lips formed into a tight line. “That _idiot_ ,” He grumbled. 

Roman holstered his weapon before yelling, “Hold your fire!” He glanced over the wall and yelled it again. By the third attempt, the group had lowered their weapons. 

“I surrender,” Roman said calmly, walking out from behind the wall with his hands raised. The agents—six of them left, he assumed backup would be coming soon—watched him with curiosity. He was unscathed…why would he surrender? 

One of the agents approached Roman, and Roman watched him closely. Intently. The agent seemed to be mildly thrown off by the intensity of his gaze and the slight smirk playing on his lips. He tripped over his own feet as he approached the RIIS agent before him, the latter tilting his head slightly to keep the COTECH agent’s attention. 

“Keep your hands above your head. I’m going to search you,” The agent said, holstering his weapon and preparing to pat Roman down. He hesitated a moment when he caught Roman’s eyes again. “What? Why are you smirking?”

“You know, you’re pretty cute for a COTECH agent.” The other man flushed red. He blinked twice before regaining his composure.

“It would be to your benefit to remain silent during the search.”

“Make me.”

The other agent stared at him, dumbfounded. They maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds before Roman suddenly surged forward and kissed him. The other agents flew into a panic, aiming their weapons towards Roman, but it was no use. He was using their agent as a sort of shield. In a second Roman snatched the weapon in the agent’s holster and shot at the remaining agents, sending them into retreat. Finally he pulled away from the agent in front of him and tossed his weapon to the side, pulling out his own from the shoulder holster. 

“Lovely meeting you,” Roman smirked, and proceeded to shoot the agent in the foot.

As the agent cried out in protest, Roman ran back towards the wall he had been using for a shield, flicking on the comms as he went. 

“You’ve been busy,” Logan stated almost instantly. 

“I bought you some time.” Roman glanced over the other side of the wall, listening for the backup that was sure to come soon. 

“Protocol Seventeen: Elimination via Seduction. Clever,” Logan grumbled out sarcastically. “I’m sure _that_ won’t have any angry COTECH agents knocking at your door later today.”

“Can’t knock if they can’t walk. Hey, that rhymes!” 

“What the hell did you _do_ to th—never mind, I don’t really want to know. Data just finished downloading, I’m on my way out. You still guarding the door?”

“Yep. Come quickly, though. I think I hear their backup.”

The door opened behind him and Logan snuck out, carrying a small disc in his gloved hand. He quickly stored the disc in his backpack and nodded to Roman. 

“Let’s head out the same way we came in. It’ll be tight if more agents are coming but it’s the only way.”

“Good. You lead, I’ll make sure we don’t get followed,” Roman said, cocking his weapon. 

The two ran in step past the wall and around where the other agents had been firing on Roman. The segment of hallway leading to the right had roof access, where they planned on being extracted. Roman heard the zing of a ricocheting bullet and glanced behind him, seeing three more COTECH agents chasing them down. 

“Logan, go! We’ve got more company!” He urged his partner down the hallway. They were a couple of feet away from the stairwell when a bullet hit Roman in his left calf. He staggered forward, managing to catch himself on the staircase handrail before he fell completely. Logan turned back, but Roman shook his head, urging him forward again. He limped up the small staircase and pushed himself up to the roof, where Logan quickly slid an arm under his shoulders and led them to the aircraft preparing to leave from the facility’s roof. 

“Alright, we’re good to go! Let’s get out of here!” Logan shouted to the pilot, who gave a thumbs up and took off. 

Roman winced as the adrenaline wore off. He could feel part of his leg numbing up, and Logan injected a painkiller to help subside the injury’s effects. 

“You’re going straight to the hospital when we’re done here.”

“I’m fine, Lo, seriously.”

“You’re drooling on my shirt. You’ll fall asleep from the painkiller before you have any more time to protest.” Roman flushed, wiping his mouth before he continued. 

“Okay, mom. I’ll go to the hoss…” Roman nodded off, his head knocking into Logan’s shoulder. 

“Oh, Roman,” Logan sighed. “You push yourself too hard. I wish you would realize sometimes.” 

He bit his lower lip, checking to make sure Roman was truly asleep. “I’m sure Virgil has noticed as well.”

——

****

Virgil squinted his eyes to see the scene in front of him. It all felt muted, yet strangely thrumming with energy at the same time. He rubbed his forehead before turning to get a full view of the room he was in. Wherever he was. 

Four grey walls; a small room or basement perhaps. He could distantly hear music, like in some sort of fancy hotel or restaurant. In front of him, a single uncovered lightbulb hanging from a wire lit up a space in the center of the room. It gave off small streams of white light, creating jagged black shadows in each of the corners of the room. A stark metallic table had been placed directly underneath the light, and one person sat on either side of it. 

Virgil recognized the person on the right to be himself, which he would’ve found weirder had he not been seeing hallucinations of himself for the past few weeks. Except this time, the Virgil in the scene was wearing a black and white suit: the complete formal look, rather than Other Virgil’s weird hoodie. On the other side, Virgil saw a person he felt he was supposed to recognize, but didn’t. This man wore a grey t-shirt and jeans, and was sitting hunched over a computer screen, typing rapidly. The sound of the keys seemed to be dissolving into echoes around them. Virgil watched the scene for a couple of seconds before the unfamiliar man spoke up. 

“I’ve almost completed the download process. It’ll be ready to go in under a minute.”

“Good,” this new Virgil said. Virgil decided to call him Mystery Virgil until he could fully figure out what was going on. “But work quickly. RIIS has eyes everywhere, you know.”

The other man flicked his gaze away from the keyboard and towards Mystery Virgil for a second, before returning them to the screen. “Yeah. I know.”

Mystery Virgil licked his lower lip, his eyes focused on the laptop in front of him. He laid back in his chair, and Virgil suddenly noticed the knife lying in his lap. Relaxed, but held in a strong grip. Ready to strike if needed. 

Grey Shirt removed his hands from the keyboard with a grin. “Done! Chip should be printing…now!” 

“Good to hear,” Mystery Virgil said in a low voice, his eyes flicking from the doorway to the man in front of him. 

“Here it is,” Grey Shirt said, presenting the chip to Mystery Virgil. Mystery Virgil took the chip, examining the tiny device between his thumb and pointer finger. A small smile appeared on his lips. Suddenly he pushed his chair back and kicked up a leg. He took his knife and cut a thin line straight through his dress pants and the skin below on the inner thigh. As the blood began to surface, Virgil carefully nestled the chip inside the skin of his inner thigh, pulled out a needle and thread, and sewed the cut back closed. The other man looked on in shock. 

“Wait, I thought you said we were going to split the dividends,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“We are. 60/40, as agreed.”

“Then why…”

“Once I take the memory pills, they’ll have no idea how to find the chip. I’ve planted some info in the files to mislead the RIIS agents. All I have left to do is put the files in their proper place and we’ll be set.” Mystery Virgil tilted his head to the side, studying the other man. 

“Why do you need to hide it, though? Why not take it directly to COTECH?”

“I need to throw RIIS off the scent. If they don’t know where the chip REALLY is—which I’ll convince them of, I assure you—then they’ll get uneasy,” Virgil said. His eye twitched as he studied the other man. “Just like you are now, I’d say.”

“W-what?”

“Turn off the recorder. Now.” The other man blanched, blinking for a moment before he did as he was told. 

“H-how did you—”

“Don’t talk. Close the laptop and stand up. Good. Back to the wall,” Mystery Virgil said, following him with his knife in hand. “Now tell me. Are you an agent working for RIIS?”

“N-no, I’m just a third party group. RIIS promised to pay me extra if I recorded the conversation so they could track you down.”

“Ah. So they let you bypass their security because they thought you could expose me? How elementary. And here you are…you still know so little about me. About my agency. _We_ don’t let things like that slide. Just like I can’t let _this_ conversation slide.”

“W-wait, don’t—” The man put a hand up to protect his face, but that did little to protect him. Mystery Virgil took his knife and slashed straight for the throat, cutting a small gash in the other man’s thumb on the way. The man crumpled to the floor, his body obscured by shadow. The only thing easily visible was part of his pale arm and a hand with a trickle of blood running down the thumb. 

Virgil put a hand to his mouth as he finally connected the dots. 

Mystery Virgil whirled around, taking the laptop in his hands and breaking it over his knee. He tossed it to the side and dusted off his pants legs, before turning towards a small stairwell and exiting the basement. 

“ _I—I did that?”_ _Virgil turned around slowly to see a familiar figure in a purple and black sweatshirt._

_“_ **_You have over 231 confirmed kills. Yes.”_ ** _He shivered at the number._

_“I don’t remember this.”_

_“_ **_That was their mistake,_ ** _” Other Virgil said solemnly._

_“Whose?” Virgil asked. Other Virgil simply shook their head. “This is the memory. The one that you didn’t want me to see.”_

_“_ **_One of many I hoped you wouldn’t have to see again. As you probably have figured out, this was from when you first took the chip._ ** _”_

_“Why am I seeing this now?”_

_“_ **_Because you have no more control over what you see. Over the next few hours…well, if it’s anything like last time, you’re going to witness every kill you ever made. And then they’ll replay this clip and probably surgically remove the chip from your leg._ ** _”_

_“Like last time?” Virgil furrowed his brows._

_“_ **_They’re trying to desensitize you. It’s one step in the process._ ** _”_

_“Okay, who is they? This doesn’t make any sense.” Other Virgil took in a deep breath._

_“_ **_COTECH scientists. They’re…experimenting on you. Right now._ ** _”_

_“WHAT?” Virgil said. Other Virgil’s lip twitched._

_“_ **_I can show you what’s going on, but only for a moment. Brace yourself._ ** _” Virgil gulped, his stomach forming knots over and over again as Other Virgil reached out and touched a hand to Virgil’s forehead._

Virgil’s eyes snapped open, and he blinked rapidly to adjust to the light. He suddenly felt the pressure of restraints on his hands and wrists. He turned his head to the right and saw a group of white-coated scientists. Along with… he squinted. _Wait, that was Janus._

“Janus! Janus, help me! They’re going to hurt me, please help!!” He yelled, struggling against the restraints. His voice was raw, as if he had been screaming for some time. 

Janus’s eyes widened, and he looked over to the scientist next to him. “He’s not supposed to be seeing this.”

“It’s okay. We’ll erase it with the rest,” The scientist shrugged. Virgil’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Nurse, can we get a sedation over here? Looks like the old one wore off early.”

“NO! NO, DON’T DO THIS, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS! I DON’T CONSENT! PLEASE!!” Virgil screamed. He saw Janus turn and walk away from the cot, as more white coats came to restrain him. He noticed a small knick from a knife blade across Janus’s chin as he turned. Remus appeared with the white coats and helped them restrain Virgil. He looked almost guilty. But not nearly enough for what was happening to his supposed friend. “Please, Remus…please tell them to let me go…” He sobbed, and Remus’s eyes flicked away. 

“I’m sorry, Virgil. This wasn’t my choice.” 

The words faded as Virgil’s consciousness was shoved backwards into the soft grey silence. Virgil began to sob, feeling trapped in the frustration of it all. He felt a warm pair of arms wrap around him and he leaned into the embrace, smelling a familiar scent on their skin.

“ _Roman?”_

_The scent quickly faded as Virgil realized who it was._ “ ** _I’m sorry, Virgil._** _”_

_“It’s…it’s okay. At least you’re being truthful to me.”_

_“_ **_Well, I’m a part of you, so I would hope so.”_ ** _The corner of Other Virgil’s lip twitched as if he were making a joke._ **_“But yeah, no problem. Look, I promise I’ll stick with you the whole way through. I’ve done this a couple of times, so maybe I can make it a little easier.”_ **

_“How many times? What have they been doing to me?” Virgil rocked back on his heels, sitting on the open grey space beneath them._

_“_ **_They’ve been selectively erasing memory. I recall them talking about…the perfect spy. One without feelings. Of course, they have no idea how to erase feelings as a whole without drastic consequences, but…they have started to erase people close to you. They erased Patton in the last memory wipe._ ** _”_

_“Pat…Oh my God, how did I forget about_ Patton _? How—Why am I remembering him now?” Virgil’s face fell as a dozen new—no, old—memories of Patton flooded into his head._

_“_ **_Well, the process isn’t perfected yet, I think. Every time they put you under that little dome thing that wipes memories, it triggers a response, allowing you to see every memory they’ve wiped already. I think I recall them saying it was because the machine only makes the memories dormant, and putting you under again re-activates them because of the energy fields required to edit the memory stores. But they have to erase it incrementally in order to find out what your brain’s limits are. So every time you go in…they erase more and more. I believe this is your third time through this._ ** _”_

_“When did I forget Patton?”_

_“_ **_In the most recent wipe—right after the memory pills wore off and you rejoined COTECH. It was their first time trying to erase the entire existence of someone in their mind. They never got that far with the other patients._ ** _” Virgil’s mind suddenly flashed to an image of—no, no. He didn’t want to remember that. Virgil quickly stowed the memory in the back corner of his mind._

_“So they go in, erase what they want and probably any memories of this place, and then put me back out for a test run to see if it worked?”_

_“_ **_Essentially, yes._ ** _”_

_“That’s…” Virgil’s stomach churned again._

_“_ **_Horrible._ ** _”_

_“So then…have I talked to you every time we do this?” Other Virgil paused a moment before responding._

_“_ **_Remember how I told you I was a part of your consciousness?_ ** _”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“_ **_I am basically a byproduct of the experimentation. A…coping mechanism, if you will. It’s the only way your brain has been able to compensate for the memory loss: A small sliver of you that insists that ‘something’s wrong,’ even though I always forget what it really is until we’re…back here. Because you never truly forget, the memories just go dormant. But that’s not how the brain is supposed to work. And sometimes, because of that, little slivers of memories slip through. Like…oh my God, Roman. Remember how I was telling you that Roman was the key to finding out what was wrong with you?_ ** _”_

_“…Yeah? But he didn’t know anything.”_

_“_ **_That’s because I misinterpreted the message. He’s not the key to unlocking your memories, he’s…what they’re going to get rid of next.”_ **

There was a sudden shaking in the grey field of Virgil’s mind, and the scene began to shift to another memory. 

**_“It’s starting. Hold on, Virgil.”_ **

****

——

Roman woke up a couple of hours later in a RIIS medical facility. The nurse explained that he had been issued a week of injury leave, and asked him to minimize movement and walking on the leg until it healed more. Luckily, the wound had been more of a graze, though it formed a clear band across the outside of the leg. Logan agreed to take Roman home and assist him as needed. 

The ride home was fairly quiet, as Logan kept his eyes on the road for the majority of the drive. However, despite Roman’s own tiredness, he could tell something was troubling Logan and decided to bring it up when they parked.

“Do you need help getting to your apartment?” Logan asked as they pulled to a stop. 

“No.” He said, and took in a deep breath before asking the question. “Are you okay, Logan? No offense, but something seems off.”

Logan didn’t respond at first, and Roman feared he wasn’t going to at all. “I know.”

“Know what?”

“I know about you and Virgil.” Roman’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly wished Logan hadn’t said anything. 

“And…I’m assuming you don’t approve,” Roman said slowly, his voice dry. 

“I do not,” Logan responded blatantly. “He’s a threat to you and to the agency. I think you should cut it off with him.”

“Excuse you? You do not get to make those decisions for me,” Roman snapped back.

“Roman, can you not see that Virgil is going to hurt you? He’s already done it so many times before. He _stabbed_ you. I know you’ve seen him since. I know you’ve been visiting him. But it’s not healthy. He only wants to manipulate you so he can get what he needs—”

“That’s _not true_.”

“Only someone delusional could not see that he wants your love for personal gain. It’s not real, Roman. This is all some absurdity—”

“ _Logan!_ ” Roman yelled, blinking away the moisture in the corner of his eyes. “Can’t you see that I love him? The only reason he’d hurt me is because he’s scared of what people like _you_ would do to him if he didn’t put on a show. He’s protecting both of us. I can handle that,” Roman spat, holding a hand over the scar on his abdomen. 

“People like _me?_ We’ve been friends since the academy. Why am I suddenly the subject of ire?” Logan’s face fell a notch further. “Roman…are you switching allegiances?”

Roman stuttered. “N-no, of course not!”

“Because it sounds as if you were no longer satisfied here. That you are willing to overlook the life you have built yourself for a simple lover who will abandon you and leave you without a side to choose fr—”

“He’s _not some simple lover_!” Roman shouted, his hands shaking. He felt tears burning at his eyes; scalding his face and leaving their invisible scars on his skin. They hurt worse than any of his bruises or scars.

“You can keep saying that all you want,” Logan continued slowly; carefully. “You fall in love too easily, Roman. You fell in love with Virgil just like you fell in love with Adam. It was a _mistake_ both times. And yet you couldn’t let it go. You were careless. Adam died because you lost your focus. I remember you saying those exact words to me last time.” Roman clenched his fist, a mixture of heartbreak and anger welling up inside him. “‘He’s not some simple lover’? You’ve lost touch. You have no focus on the more important issues; your mind is thoroughly placed in the clouds. How easily will you fall if something happens to this so-called lover? How many more punches from him will you take before you realize that he’s torn your life apart?”

“What about _you_ , then? Why is it _you’re_ allowed to fall in love with whoever you want to? You have someone you can talk to and go home to. You _know_ how it feels, how much people like us need that. And with that knowledge, you’re going to deny me my own happiness while you get to have it yourself? It’s selfish. And it’s so unlike you, Logan.” Roman’s voice broke on the last note, and he took a second to compose himself. “I haven’t lost touch—except with the realization that some people think it wise to make my decisions for me for their own so-called ‘greater good.’ So no, I’m not switching allegiances. RIIS will always be my agency. But I guess now I’ll have to switch _friends._ ”

The ice in Roman’s words chilled Logan to a stinging paralysis. He held his breath as he waited for Roman to continue the barrage, but the latter man simply shook his head and hoisted himself out of the car. 

Logan watched as he limped to the hotel, only able to move again when Roman disappeared from sight. 

He didn’t notice when his hands began to shake, or how long it was before his vision blurred as tears formed and fell. He put a hand to his mouth to muffle the noise. 

_What have I done?_

——

****

“Stop. You need to stop.”

“No. He can take it. If we don’t show him enough in one sitting then he won’t be conditioned the way we need him to be.”

“ _It’s never been this bad before,_ ” Janus hissed, whirling around to face the scientist next to him. He winced as a new bout of the shrill noise began. “He’s been screaming for the last half hour.”

“He’s right. You need to shut it down, at least for now. Virgil’s killed so many people…this won’t adjust him to violence, it’ll shatter him,” Remus murmured. “116 kills. You’ve made him watch himself kill all those people.”

The scientist hesitated a moment before turning towards the panel. “We haven’t even gotten to the erasures yet.”

“ _Later_ ,” Janus said shakily. “Just give him an hour. _Thirty minutes,_ at least.”

“It is extremely risky for me to take him out mid-procedure.”

“Please,” Janus pressed. The scientist looked him over carefully before nodding, pulling down a lever. The dome covering the top half of Virgil’s head moved backwards at an excruciatingly slow pace until finally, Janus could see all of Virgil’s face again. 

Oh, his face. 

He couldn’t tell where the line between sweat and tears was; only that Virgil’s eyes were sealed shut from exhaustion and sweat was beaded in large droplets across his forehead. He was a mess. Janus looked away again, letting the white coats hoist him off the table and into a holding cell. 

Virgil laid there, motionless, as Janus crossed to the opposite side of the room in swift strides. For several minutes, the white coats went about their business and Janus and Remus tried to stay as far away from the cell as possible. They felt the weight of their guilt bearing down on them even from that distance. 

Fourteen minutes. Virgil’s senses sharpened, and he slowly opened his sore eyes. His throat felt dull and was beginning to ache from what he assumed was his screaming. Or maybe it was _theirs_. All those people he destroyed…

He shivered. 

_Focus, now. Guilt can come when you’re free. Where are you?_ Virgil kept his body as still as possible and surveyed his surroundings. 

Smell of sweat. 

Chatter of workers. Distracted. 

Laboratory. Equipment everywhere. Barred cell. No windows. Basement—basement of COTECH’s facility. Staircase?

The staircase was around the corner of the holding cell. 

Escape?

Holding cell lock. Sneak out while distracted. 

Virgil’s hand twitched, and he manipulated out two pins that had been sewn into his shirt. Slowly he inched his way towards the door to the cell, pushing himself up and setting to work on the lock. His body was slightly numb from the lack of motion, but he clenched his jaw and tried to work through it. 

After a minute the lock clicked, and his hands carefully retreated as he pushed the door open a crack. None of the white coats seemed to notice. He quietly made his way across the space and to the stairwell, which was just where he had predicted it would be. He stilled with baited breath as the volume of the chattering white coats increased, before realizing it was safe and stealing up the staircase.

Virgil wobbled as he went up the steps, feeling like he was in a dream where everything was going in slow motion. His movements were gradually able to speed up, though, as he made his way to his room. Halfway there, the security alarms to the COTECH facility went off. He picked up the pace, hearing distant shouting behind him.

In his room, he grabbed his normal black coat, grappling hook, and the gadgets that went on his belt. He had almost no personal effects, and nothing he would need to go back for. The shouting was getting closer. He opened the window of his room, remembering the tussle he had had there just— _hm. How long had it been?_ The air cooled the sweat across his arms and face. The moment he had his grappling hook ready in his hands, COTECH agents burst into his room. 

No. Not just any COTECH agents. 

Janus and Remus. 

They stared at each other in a stunned silence. 

“You,” Virgil snarled. “You let this happen.” His voice was dry and sore, feeling like cat’s claws dragging down across his vocal chords as he spoke. 

Janus put up his hands. “No, Virgil, you don’t und—”

“LIAR! You saw what they did to me. And you did _nothing._ ” Tears were starting to form in Virgil’s eyes. “And _you,_ Remus. You were in on it too. And you let it happen. They fucked with my head, and _you let it happen_. Not just once—three times. _You let them do it._ I hate you. I hate BOTH OF YOU.”

“Please, Virgil, just listen! We had to do what they told us.” Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Virgil, please don’t leave,” Janus pleaded, taking a step forward with his hands extended. “You’re the only family I have left.”

Virgil glared at them, his looks spitting venom. 

“You’re dead to me, Janus.”

Before either of the agents could react, Virgil leaped out of the window, releasing his grappling hook and swinging out across the rooftops—out to safety. 

The feeling of freedom quickly began to wear away as he got farther from the facility—the less pleasant memories came streaming back to his head, writhing, painful memories. One wince set him off balance and caused him to tumble off course; his left shoulder digging into the rooftop below him. He stayed there, paralyzed, as the memories swarmed around his head once more. 

****

——

It was late at night—11 o’clock, about—when Roman’s apartment phone rang. He stared at it, brows furrowed for a moment, before picking it up. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this the front desk?” Roman relaxed as he recognized the voice. It was Mrs. Sanchez, the elderly apartment owner on the top floor. She was quite a genius in her own right, but not with phones. He frequently got accidental calls from her as she tried to reach the front desk or chat with one of her friends from the neighboring apartment buildings. He always enjoyed their conversations, though they were usually unexpected. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Sanchez. No, this is Roman. I think you might have dialed the wring number again? The front desk’s number is 337.”

“Oh! I apologize, dear. Sorry to wake you up this late!”

“No worries. What keeps _you_ up this late? Is something wrong?”

“Well, yes. You see, I heard a loud thump on the roof above me and I’m not sure what it was. I was going to call the front desk and see if they could check the air conditioning systems. I believe they might have broken and caused the noise.” Roman’s brows furrowed. 

“Mrs. Sanchez, I could take a look at it for you. I’m already awake and plus, I’m a police officer. If anything suspicious is going on up there I can take care of it for you.” There was a brief hesitation before she responded. 

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll meet you up here in a few minutes. Though I hate to keep you up.”

“It’s no problem, I usually work late hours anyways,” Roman said, already gathering supplies. A mysterious thunk was unlikely to be an air conditioning problem—and more likely to be a threat to Mrs. Sanchez’s safety. 

In a couple of minutes he was in Mrs. Sanchez’s apartment. She showed Roman to the rooftop access after handing him a cookie (or maybe two) and warning him to be safe. He promised he would be and he carefully ascended the small ladder, keeping a hand on the weapon concealed in his jacket as he stepped out onto the roof. 

Roman stumbled backwards in shock when he saw the man in black lying on the rooftop. As the realization dawned on him, however, he ran forward and took him in his arms. 

“Virgil. Virgil, are you alright?” He breathed, pushing back the purple hair from his face. The man was drenched in sweat. “Shit. Shit shit shit shit…” Roman mumbled. He hoisted Virgil into his arms and turned towards the stairwell, giving Mrs. Sanchez quite a shock as she saw the man. Roman had to offer a hurried explanation before rushing Virgil down to his own apartment. His leg was burning, but he gritted his teeth and promised to look at it later. First priority was finding out what had happened. He set Virgil down on his bed and went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and a wet washcloth for Virgil’s face. As far as he could tell there were no physical injuries. But what could that mean?

Virgil mumbled something incomprehensible, his eyes squeezed shut. Roman listened carefully, but after a minute with no more speaking he resumed wiping the sweat off Virgil’s forehead with a cloth. 

“Virgil, you’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” he asked carefully, reexamining the spy. Virgil slowly shook his head, then proceeded to gag. Roman reacted quickly, grabbing a wastebasket from besides his bed. Virgil tried to throw up but there was nothing left in his stomach to do so. 

“What did they do to you?” Roman whispered, examining Virgil’s face again. He noticed thin, dry lines running down the side of his cheeks—tears. They had to be dried tears. 

Had someone tortured him?

Had _RIIS_? 

Roman shivered. Virgil moved closer to Roman and began to whisper.

“They gave me my…memories back,” Virgil said, his voice cutting in and out. Roman blinked, theories already whirling through his head. “Only got halfway through. Couldn’t erase the memories.” Virgil’s eyes opened, but they were staring at nothing. Roman noticed the searing redness in them.

“Who?”

Virgil tried to swallow and grimaced at the pain. “COTECH.” 

Roman froze. 

_How was that somehow worse_? 

He studied Virgil for a moment before jumping up again, earning him protests of pain from his calf. “We need to get you out of here. They’ll be looking for you…they probably want to take back what you have,” He said, grabbing a backpack that stood waiting by the door for such emergencies. “There’s an access route through this hotel to the tunnel system. From there I know where to find a safe house that usually stays unoccupied. We can lay low there for a while.”

“Roman…what about after that?” Roman paused, his hand hovering over the first aid kit in his kitchen. 

“I don’t know. Yet. I’ll think of something,” He said. He stuffed the kit into his backpack and crossed back over to the bed, helping to lift the trembling Virgil onto his feet. 

Roman could feel Virgil shivering through his coat. 

“C’mon Virge, stay with me. I promise I’ll keep you safe. Just keep moving. We’ll be safe soon.”

_Whatever monstrosities COTECH committed…I’ll end them. Every last one._

_I swear I will._

_End Part 2_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, as always. <3
> 
> uh oh. poor virgil. 
> 
> \---Synopses---  
> Section 1: Virgil gets taken away in the night by a mysterious yet familiar group of agents.  
> Section 2: Virgil revisits a memory that tells him where the chip with RIIS IDs is stored, and how he got it. Virgil's subconscious explains that COTECH has been tampering Virgil's memory-they buried memories of his missions and, more recently, erased Patton (though Virgil's memories came back for this period, once he was in the machine again). His subconscious also is acting as Virgil's coping mechanism for the sudden dormancy of some of his memories. COTECH tampered with them in order to try to create a more powerful agent with no emotional attachments.  
> Section 3: Janus, who is observing the experiments, is weighted by his guilt and asks the scientists to stop tampering with his memory for a half an hour so they could all get a break. In this time, Virgil escapes the facility, but the continually surfacing memories distract him from his escape and he takes a tumble.


	19. Affected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories resurface with fresh wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Dissociation/Trauma recovery. Skip [beginning], to "Whatever it was,..."  
> Some cursing throughout  
> Violent images. Stop "Roman took a deep breath before..." to "Virgil made a..."

_Grey._

_Ash._

_Empty._

_No._

“ ** _Snap out of it, Virgil._** _”_

_No._

_“_ **_Listen to me._ ** _”_

_No._

_“_ **_You have to say something. If not to Roman than at least to yourself._ ** _”_

_“I don’t have to do anything. Leave me alone.”_

_“_ **_You haven’t spoken to Roman in three days, Virgil.”_ **

_“He knows why.”_

_“_ **_Yeah, well soon he’s going to start thinking he did something. C’mon._ ** _” Other Virgil stared at him for a moment. After hearing no response, he turned his head to look at the space around them._

_The mindscape around them used to be an endless grey expanse; calm and empty so Virgil could concentrate. Now…There were fractures across every surface, blinding bits of light and broken darkness. Shards of memory floating about. Faces. So many faces._

_Virgil’s mind was flooded with the daily influx of new memories, and it seemed like it might be cracking under the pressure._

_“_ **_At least get out of bed, Virge._ ** _”_

_Virgil blinked, staring around at his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time._

_“Okay,” He whispered numbly._

Virgil opened his eyes, taking a moment to blink out the sleep. He stared out into the bleak room in front of him. It was a small space: Just a bed, window, dresser, and a small closet. Not a place meant as a home. The air around him felt slightly cold, and he had to fight to convince himself that getting out of bed was even worthwhile. The small bed creaked as he moved, pushing himself to a sitting position. From there he stared at his feet as if he had never seen them before. He shivered, then finally stretched out his legs in front of him and stood, wobbling on his feet as he did so. 

He stumbled his way to the windowsill. For a moment he stared out the window, but the view of the city was bleak. 

Like everything else. 

Everything was empty. 

Everything looked the same. 

He sighed, glaring at his reflection in the glass. He looked paler than usual, probably a tribute to his little hibernation. 

He swallowed down the taste of ash in his throat, suddenly feeling nauseous. _Just one thing after another._

Getting all of his memories back at once had been traumatic—not to mention he had fallen into a shock after the adrenaline of escaping that facility wore off. He couldn’t speak, could barely move, and worst of all…he had had to watch Roman, helpless, trying to figure out what to do. 

Virgil could only watch, letting his throat dry up with words still fresh on his tongue. 

_231_. 

_231 faces. 231 lives._

_I killed them._

_Why?_

_Because it was my job?_

_Did I even want to kill them?_

Virgil closed his eyes, sick of his reflection. 

_My first kill…what happened then?_

_It was for a mission. Assassination mission. I killed a man from another rooftop without any close contact._

_The kills just kept piling up after that._

_More hand to hand combat. More casualties._

Virgil’s stomach twisted in knots. When he looked back down at his hands, they were shaking. For a second he could’ve sworn he saw blood on them, but the image was gone just as quickly.

The nausea setting in forced him to sit down at the windowsill. 

Too much killing for one day. Far too much for one lifetime. 

But why was this affecting him so much? He was trained to withstand the trauma of death. He hadn’t even batted an eye when he made his first kill. 

It must’ve had to do with the way he had been removed from that device that messed with his head. Maybe along with restoring the memories, it restored all the suppressed trauma. 

Whatever it was, it was miserable. 

Virgil drew his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms around and laying his head down. 

He didn’t notice the knock on his door, or the creak as it opened up. He did notice, however, when a familiar voice called out to him. 

“Virgil? You’re up?” Roman said hopefully. Virgil twisted his head to see Roman in full, and gave a thin smile of acknowledgement. “Hey. I, uh…I just wanted to check on you. It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk yet, but I did bring you some food. And water.” Roman said, shifting awkwardly on his feet. After waiting a moment to test the waters, he stepped into the room, setting the food on the little dresser. He watched Virgil carefully, seeing if the man would make any move or acknowledgement. 

“Look, Virgil…I know you’re probably not feeling up for this right now, but…If you need me, I’m here for you. Even if it’s not talking. I—I can just exist with you if you want.” Roman paused, hoping his words were sinking in. “I’ll be here,” He finished quietly. 

_I will do anything I can to keep you safe_.

Virgil’s head tipped upwards just as Roman was turning to leave. He paused a moment, trying to read Virgil’s expression.

“Stay,” Virgil said weakly. Roman paused. 

It was the first time he had heard Virgil speak in days. He watched for a moment, transfixed, as Virgil rose uneasily from the windowsill and stepped towards him. Roman’s breath was caught in his throat, unsure of what to do. 

He hadn’t been sure of anything, really. Not anymore. 

And when Virgil stopped halfway between the windowsill and Roman, wrapped his arms around himself, and started sobbing, Roman couldn’t help. How was he supposed to help when stepping closer only caused him to sob harder? 

How could he help when he watched Virgil flinch away from him and retreat to the corner of the room? 

He had to step out of the room before Virgil could see the tears forming in his own eyes. Virgil didn’t need that guilt on top of everything else he was dealing with. 

_Whatever that was_. 

He didn’t even know. 

_How am I supposed to help if I don’t even know what happened?_

_Virgil, please, give me a sign. Something. We were so close today_. 

_We were so close_.

——

Dawn hadn’t risen when Logan woke up to his watch buzzing. He knitted his brows together at the rare frequency that had been used, taking a couple of seconds to realize what it meant. He sat up from his bed and glanced over at Patton, who was sleeping just a couple of inches away. 

_He will not want to hear this. Let him sleep; take it to the other room._

Logan pulled himself out of bed quickly and silently and crept out into the living room, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Then, he glanced at the watch, turning off the buzzing noise and reading the simple message that followed. 

_We need to talk._

_5:30 a.m in Rosemann_

_Square by the statue._

_Don’t be late._

Logan’s jaw clenched into place. _Guess there’s bad news on both sides, then._

——

Slivers of light were creeping onto the horizon when Logan arrived at the statue—not enough to shed light on the empty square, but enough to make Logan worried. What could possibly be this important? 

Considering the circumstances of the meeting…There was obviously some urgency the man was trying to conceal. Someone was in danger. Some plan had gone wrong. Maybe they had lost a valuable asset? Logan wasn’t sure, but his mind was at work trying to solve the problem when Deceit suddenly appeared from behind the statue. 

“Logan. You’re here.” _He is clearly agitated, although he is attempting to cover that up. There’s something very wrong here._

Logan suddenly remembered Roman showing him a “Star Wars” movie long ago, and explaining how the phrase “ _I’ve got a bad feeling about this_ ” showed up in every one. It seemed fitting at the moment. 

The unwanted pain that had been tugging at his heartstrings spiked suddenly, and his eye twitched. 

“Something is wrong. What is it?”

“It’s Virgil. He…defected from COTECH. I assume he must be with Roman. I need you to keep an eye on him and report back to me on his movements,” Deceit stated flatly. Logan could tell the speech was rehearsed. “I woudn’t come to you unless it was absolutely necessary.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, visions of Roman clouding his mind though he willed them away. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Deceit said.

“I said no. I will not be spying on a fellow agent. I will not be caught interacting with the _real_ enemy. It was a mistake meeting with you at all. This was all a mistake.” Deceit’s face darkened. 

“Killing Patton will look like a mistake, too,” Deceit reminded him. Logan huffed. 

“Not if you can’t find him.”

“Our tracking systems are far superior to your own, need I remind you, especially since we took down one of your major facilities just a couple of months ago.” 

“You know, Deceit, I can see right through that makeup of yours,” Logan pointed out, holding his hands behind his back. Deceit’s face fell. “Granted, you did a pretty good job of hiding it. But it was a rushed job, too. You’re in a hurry. You haven’t been able to find Virgil for days, going by the state of your eyes. You haven’t been getting sleep. I guess Virgil really doesn’t want to see you again? There’s obviously some sort of family feud going on—”

“This is ridiculous nonsense.”

“But it’s not nonsense, is it? Your eye is twitching. You can’t hold your perfect façade together because you’re sleep deprived. You’re slipping.”

“I _am not slipping!_ ” Deceit shouted, anger building in his chest. 

Logan raised a brow. “Oh, but you are. Or you would’ve noticed the ten agents that are now lined up behind you with their guns trained on your head,” Logan noted, smirking as Deceit whirled around to see that he had followed through on his threat. 

“I—” In his shock, Deceit’s voice was cut off. He backed away from the agents, but Logan was there to hold him down. 

Deceit froze, looking about at the agents. There was a slight gap in their wall he might be able to exploit, given the right materials— _smoke bomb, please say I still have a smoke bomb_ , he thought as his hand reached towards the supply belt he wore. 

Sure enough—there were two left. Deceit took the gamble and dropped both at once, shrouding him in an impossibly thick layer of smoke that filled into the lungs of all the agents nearby. Despite this inhibition, Deceit barreled blindly towards the gap in the agent’s formation. Soon he was outside, able to hide himself amongst the dark shadows of buildings. Shouts and a couple of gunshots rang out in the square behind him, but by then it was too late. 

He had made his escape. 

  
And his allies were clear. 

——

Roman stared blankly at the buzzing watch on his wrist.

It was Logan. The third call in a row. After watching for a moment he unfastened the watch from his wrist and set it down on the table, burying his face in his hands. 

Today had been too much. He couldn’t seem to forget Virgil flinching away from him that morning, every time he had passed that room since had left him with a pang of guilt. 

The buzzing stopped, and the absence of noise left him finally calm, until it started buzzing again. He sighed. 

Roman would never admit this in front of Virgil, but he hadn’t been sleeping will the past few nights. He was embarrassed to say this was attributed to loneliness. He missed having Virgil nearby, even though there were few nights they had actually spent together. He didn’t quite get what he was feeling, but right now it was unimportant. Right now, taking care of Virgil was priority. And speaking of which, he had a dinner almost ready for them. 

Keeping oneself busy is all that he can do. In the days after Adam, it was the only way he had to keep himself from fading away. He couldn’t fade away on Virgil.

Even if Virgil faded away from him. 

The buzzing stopped after the fifth try, and Roman was finally left in a peaceful quiet as he brought the dish—pesto, it was worth a shot at least—to Virgil’s room with baited breath. 

He knocked twice, waited a couple of seconds, and gradually edged the door open. 

Virgil was sprawled out across his bed, breathing lightly. He made no acknowledgement of Roman’s presence until the latter set the bowl on his dresser. Then, he sat up from his position on the bed, examining Roman. Roman watched, not daring to break the quasi-contact with words. 

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered, offering a weak smile. His eyes were puffy. Roman nodded, saying nothing, before walking out and closing the door behind him. Once it was closed, however, he leaned against it and sighed. 

_I miss you, Virge._

—

10 O’clock. Roman sat out at the table in the kitchen of the safe house, reading one of the books they had on hand. _The Tempest_ , by William Shakespeare. Every safe house had a copy of it. A couple of operatives back when Roman was still training had codenamed a mission after the play. It became one of the most famous missions in RIIS history, as all the operatives had gotten out almost unscathed from the depths of a COTECH database with critical information about COTECH’s movements for the next couple of months. They had also managed to sabotage some of their weapons building operations in the process. It was a mission that had inspired Roman’s career—and now he looked to it for advice, though what the play was giving wasn’t exactly what Roman was searching for. Shakespeare was difficult to interpret, in any case. 

By 11 there had been no activity or noise that suggested Virgil might need something. Roman’s reading had been largely unsuccessful, and his eyes felt heavy. He went to his bedroom wondering about the characters in a dreamy, blurred state. 

The room wasn’t cold, only a few degrees below room temperature—but it was enough to make Roman shiver and dread walking about in the morning. His room didn’t feel like a _room_. It felt like a space he was granted strict permission to _live in,_ but not to touch. Not to feel at home. He supposed that was why they made safe houses the way they did.

To remind people that they still have a mission to complete. 

The corner of Roman’s lip twitched. He tried not to dwell on that idea, instead slipping underneath the cool covers of his bed—unable to sleep, but tired of sitting in an empty kitchen and waiting for…probably nothing. 

Roman had counted to 1,562 seconds when he heard a creak at the door. The noise disappeared, to return soon after in the form of gentle, nearly silent footsteps approaching the bed. Roman waited until the footsteps stopped before he turned towards the figure. 

“Everything okay?” Roman mumbled sleepily. Virgil nodded. 

“Did you eat?” Another nod. Roman’s lips did a half-smile. He studied Virgil’s face in the dark. 

“Can’t sleep?” Virgil hesitated a moment, then nodded. The room went silent again until Roman suddenly scooted over, pulling the covers back. He patted the empty space next to him. 

Roman felt the weight shift on the bed, then a sudden warmth as Virgil’s arm touched his own. He turned to face Virgil, suddenly noticing the ragged shadows under his eyes.

His eyeshadow was gone—that was all him. 

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” Roman whispered, reaching a hand out to brush back Virgil’s purple-tipped hair. He hesitated a moment, remembering the morning incident, but he pushed that thought aside.

“I tried to,” Virgil rasped, and Roman blinked in surprise upon hearing his voice. “But I couldn’t.”

“That’s okay,” Roman said, searching Virgil’s eyes. “It happens to me too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be—”

“No. I do. For this morning. And for not talking to you before.”

“Virgil, you don’t need to be sorry for that. You’re working through trauma, everything doesn’t need to be magically okay again after three days,” Roman said calmly. “You weren’t ready, and that’s okay. You don’t need to push yourself out of obligation.”

“I’m just…” Virgil trailed off. He wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m so scared I’m going to hurt you. The—the machine they put me on…it showed me things. Memories. Ones they had tried to erase,” he managed to say. Roman blinked, his eyebrows knotting in concern.

“Virge, you don’t need to relive those memories just to apologize. I understand what you’re going through, I don’t want to make it any harder.”

“No, but I _do_ need to, Roman. I promise. Just listen.” Roman hesitated a moment before nodding. “They erased people from my memory—but not just that. They erased all the people that I’ve _killed_.”

“We’ve all killed people, Virge. It’s in the job description.” 

“Have you killed 231?”

Roman paused. “I—I don’t know.”

“I have that many confirmed kills. When I was in the machine they tried to force me to watch all of them over again. I only got to 116 before they pulled me out of there.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Roman whispered. 

“I can’t stop seeing their faces. The pain that they felt before I killed them. And I keep wondering if you’re going to be the next on my kill list,” Virgil said, his voice broken. There were hot flashes of tears building in his eyes. 

“Virgil, listen to me. They’re not in charge of you any more. You are. And I know you don’t want to hurt me. Even if you did, I can protect myself. And I can protect you from yourself if I need to. And—if _those people_ try to get close to you again? They won’t even know what hit them. I swear.”

“But—”

Roman took Virgil’s hand in his own, and Virgil’s words fell short on his tongue. They held eye contact for a while before Roman spoke again. 

“Do you remember when we were laying low in that hotel, and I told you about how I failed an extraction mission?”

“Yeah.”

Roman took a deep breath before continuing. “The person I was trying to extract…his name was Adam. We were friends at the academy, but he decided against becoming a spy right before graduation. He found his calling as an actor, actually. I was pretty close to joining him, too, but I had spent so long training as a spy, and I didn’t want to give that up. We parted ways. But a few years later, I got a mission assignment to spy on him, make sure he wasn’t spilling any secrets about the academy. It’s a routine checkup that comes with every data system reboot. So, I decided to reconnect with him in order to keep an eye on him. We got to know each other again, and well, we fell in love.” Virgil’s eyes flicked downward to Roman’s hand on his own. “It stopped being about the mission—which I ended up telling him about, against protocol—and started to be about _us_. Us, against the world. Which was going pretty great, until I woke up one morning with an extraction mission assignment. An extraction…for him. Naturally I geared up as quickly as I could, but by then COTECH had already taken him to their facility. They thought he was an agent laying low. I broke in, tried to save him, and ended up getting trapped there too. Even by then, Adam was…Remus did some horrible things to him. Adam was scared out of his mind. He couldn’t walk. He told me that it hurt him to breathe. It was day three in there when I knew he wasn’t going to recover. And Remus made daily visits. I tried my best to nurse Adam back to health, but he was too far gone. The room was too dark to tell, but Logan told me I was gone four days before I returned…so it was on day four. Remus came for his daily visit. Tried to torture the information out of us. I kept silent. Adam was weaker. He was in so much pain—he begged Remus to kill him.”

“He obliged, no doubt,” Virgil muttered, his face dark. Roman bit his lower lip.

“I yelled at Remus to get back from him. Remus didn’t refuse or accept, just stared at me, confused. But he had stopped torturing Adam. So I stepped in between the two of them. Adam…his mind was too far gone by then. He thought Remus was still hurting him. All I could hear was him repeating that plea. It was too much to handle. He was going to bleed out. I knelt down next to him, gave him one last goodbye. Then I snapped his neck,” Roman said, taking a shaky breath. “Remus didn’t kill Adam, _I_ did.” 

Virgil stared at him for a moment. “Mercy killing.”

“It was Remus or it was me. And Remus would’ve drawn it out as long as he could,” Roman said, heaving out a heavy breath. “I want you to know this about me. I’ve had it on my conscience for a long time, but I’ve never been able to tell anyone how he really died. Logan doesn’t even know.” Roman paused, sighing. “The point is, we all have our fair share of sins. And maybe our hands are dirty, but that doesn’t mean we’re incapable of being good people. I trust you, Virgil, and that’s not going to change. They messed with your head; that’s not your fault. I’m not going to give up on you because of a kill count.”

Virgil made a half-smile before scooting closer to Roman, nestling into his arms. 

“Thank you, Roman,” Virgil said quietly.

“Of course.”

In minutes Roman had drifted off, and Virgil played with the curly locks framing Roman’s face before he too fell asleep, a hand still tangled in Roman’s hair. 

——

Patton woke up to an empty bed—not that he had expected otherwise. Logan had too many missions he needed to take care of to stay for long, and the spy had been restless of late. He couldn’t seem to sit still for long amounts of time, and he had begun to abandon his late-night reading in favor of taking missions. 

Something had happened with Roman, and Logan wouldn’t go into details—but Patton was an expert of the heart, and despite Logan’s best attempts to hide his negative feelings around him, Patton could still see past them. 

There’d always been signs, as long as he had known Logan. 

When they first met, it had been irritation that he read off the man, by the twitch of the corner of his eye during their first few interactions—it was over two years ago now that Patton had first bumped into him in a bookstore (and knocked all of the books out of his arms, but Patton elected to ignore that part). 

Over time, though, Patton had seen the irritation soften, until the twitch of Logan’s eye was paired with an upturned lip, and a softness in his expression that he often tried to hide. He hadn’t known it was affection until he noticed Logan didn’t use it around his other acquaintances—it was special for him. And Patton kept that little flutter of warmth in his heart, though occasionally seeing Logan would cause it to expand through his chest and cause him to feel giddy. Sometimes he couldn’t help but smile seeing Logan, which he hid behind a mask of friendliness. And eventually Patton realized that that small change in Logan’s expression was his way of saying, ‘I love you.’

Being with Logan for real had been like an extension of the past two years, except now, Patton didn’t have to hide that bubble of joy. 

Recently, though, Logan had started to conceal the signs Patton recognized so well. 

Losing a long term friend is never easy. Especially if you don’t have many to begin with. Patton understood the toll it takes on people, hence why Patton decided to pick up his phone that morning and dial Roman’s phone number. 

If Logan wasn’t going to make things right, why couldn’t Patton try?

——

Janus needed to clear his head. 

There was only one place the spy could go after a failed mission—his room in the barracks. The barren gray walls and muted color of the floor made for a perfect place to meditate. To reflect. 

He kept a collected and rigid posture until the moment the door to his room closed; then he tore off his hat, coat, the yellow gloves that hid the burn scars on his hands, and stowed them with a practiced deftness. In the bathroom mirror, he stared at his face; focusing on the disheveled hair and the little points of imperfection in the makeup on the left side of his face. 

A rushed job. He knew better. Or that is what he told himself, staring at the 'skin' until it felt like it was burning—all over again. Then, in a blinding flash of anger, he scratched through the prosthetics, leaving four lines that exposed the long-burned skin beneath. The skin he had to hide. Hot tears began to build up as he continued tearing off the prosthetic, until finally the left half of his face was free from its cover. Breathing heavily, he washed the last of the prosthetic away. He only stole one more glance in the mirror, seeing red-rimmed green eyes staring back at him. Eyes filled with conflict, messy, disorderly—the opposite of what he needed to be right now. He tore himself away from the mirror, refusing to look at this raw and injured creature it presented. 

When he walked back out, he was greeted by a wave of calm once more. He let the gray colors of the walls wash over him and leave his momentary bout of anger behind him. He folded his scarred hands in front of him and settled himself in the center of his room, closing his eyes and focusing.

The first topic of reflection was, obviously, Virgil. The first image that came to mind was fresh; a Virgil that stood crouched on the window, snarling back at Janus and Remus with a flare of anger in his eyes. 

_What else?_

He had his coat. His grappling hook, knives. Meaning he had had plenty of time before he was noticed. What had he said?

‘ _They fucked with my head, and you let it happen. Not just once—three times.’_

Janus flinched, before shaking it off. _Not that memory. That was a moment of weakness. Maybe something before…wait._

_‘Not just once—three times.’_

_Ah. So he knows. Which means…he didn’t lose any of his memories. In fact, he gained them all back. Not just the killing. All of it._

_That will definitely be a security issue._

Janus bit his lip. 

_We didn’t get the chance to erase Roman. So Virgil’s next obvious move would be to go to him,_ he thought with a touch of annoyance. 

He recalled the empty apartment that he and a crew of COTECH agents had entered when they started the search for the missing asset. They went through everything—books, silverware, even tearing apart furniture to find a clue where they could be or any valuable information they could find. No luck. This agent had done _too_ well in prepping for a sudden escape; nothing important was left behind. 

It was a huge breach in security, and now the entire operation was under fire. 

If the experiments got leaked to the public, the Director’s plans for the agency would be destroyed. COTECH’s already-muddled reputation would be crushed under the boots of public opinion. 

Not to mention…

Janus didn’t mean to let his mind wander from the objective, but it happened anyway. 

_Not to mention, I lose him forever._

_Virgil—I never intended for this to happen._

Janus tipped his head backwards, remembering the moment Virgil leaped out of the window. 

_He was on the edge. He might have come back to me. I told him how I felt—he was that last family I had left after they were taken away. But he didn’t come back._

_‘You’re dead to me, Janus.’_

He felt his chest tighten, the words slipping daggers between his ribs. Virgil’s daggers.

Janus imagined the scenario he felt: Virgil held him in an embrace, eyes locked on his and a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Janus would’ve felt a soft stroke over the gap between his ribs; would’ve thought it was just Virgil’s finger finding its way up to Janus’s shoulder. It was only when Virgil faded away and left the knife protruding from his chest that Janus would have seen how Virgil truly felt. 

Janus loved Virgil. 

It was something he had tried to ignore for years. He explained his attachment as him being the only family he had left, which was true, in part, but it have never been just that. 

He had been interested in the man since day one of trainee camp, but he had never been able to articulate this to the man, especially since Virgil never seemed interested in _anyone._ Only the mission. 

The Director thought that would make the best material for a cerebrally altered super-spy. 

Janus didn’t fight it—there was no fighting the Director when a decision is made. Instead, he did what he believed was the next best thing. He signed up with Remus to be in charge of monitoring Virgil and bringing him in for testing days. It always left a sour note in his mouth, the fact that he couldn’t stop it, but his hands were tied.

His hands were tied. 

_My hands were tied_. 

_It_ wasn’t _because of that damn spy, Roman, who seems determined to ruin my life and take Virgil with him._

Janus was sick of the twisting, tightening sensation in his chest. He needed to reign his emotions back in—he was letting himself wander too far. 

Just as he began to clear his head, the door knocked open behind him. 

“Janus.” _Ah, it’s Remus._ Janus sighed before slowly turning around from his sitting position.

“Remus, must you disturb me every time I meditate?” 

“I heard about this morning,” Remus started, slowly. Janus remained motionless, waiting. “Why didn’t you come for me to help? Or at least tell me about it?”

“I thought I could handle it. How much did you hear, exactly?”

“That you got ambushed by some RIIS agents. That’s it.” Janus hesitated a moment, then motioned with his head for Remus to come inside. 

“I thought I had a lead on Virgil’s whereabouts. I was wrong. That’s it.”

“You’re not wearing your…” Remus pointed towards the burn scars. Janus’s lips tightened into a thin line. 

“Sorry, would you prefer that I did?” He asked with a biting edge to his voice, turning away so Remus couldn’t see the burned side. 

“No,” Remus said. He reached out and took Janus’s chin in his hand, tilting it back so he could look Janus in the eyes. “Your scars are what make you you. They’re what make you beautiful. Why can’t you see that?” He asked quietly.

Janus wasn’t sure how to respond for that beyond a blush, so he simply stared. Gaped—until Remus dropped his hand and his eyes flicked downward. He turned on his heel towards the door, and Janus made no attempt to follow. Just as Remus stepped through he added, “Next mission starts in fifteen. Suit up.”

The door closed. Janus stared at the place where Remus had been, his jaw slack. 

_No. No way. He doesn’t—he can’t—_

_He can’t, can he?_

——

Roman woke up to a buzzing noise from his nightstand—his civilian phone. He squinted through tired eyes to see what it said, but he couldn’t tell for sure. Partially because of the sleep making it hard to open his eyes. Partially because he was almost completely entangled with a certain Virgil Morris. He shifted once before realizing he wasn’t going to move unless Virgil woke up. 

The ringing had died off and started anew by the time the man woke up. He blinked his eyes open for a second before studying Roman’s face for a moment.

“What’s that sound, Princey?” He murmured sleepily. Roman fiddled with Virgil’s hair with his freed fingers. 

“My phone is ringing. I might have to pick it up soon. If you would so allow,” He added jokingly. 

“Mmmm, do you have to?”

Roman paused, desperately wanting to say no. He sighed. “I think so.” 

Virgil knitted his brows together. “What if you don’t instead?” He mumbled. Roman let slip a smirk. 

“Maybe this once it could be arranged,” Roman whispered, already forgetting about the phone when he met his eyes. Virgil giggled, and that only solidified Roman’s choice. He leaned forward and kissed him gently on the forehead. 

_This is kinda nice_ , Roman thought, unable to hold back a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience and, as always, to your support of the story!


	20. Just After Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're healing. Or, they're doing their best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe...so it's, uh, it's been a while. whoops. *looks at the chapter count* hehehehe oh no
> 
> In other news: If you want to listen to what Virgil's listening to in the ballet sequence, it's Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake Op. 20, Act II No. 10, Scene!
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> -Cursing throughout  
> -Blood (Stop at "Into a pool of..." start "it had been left open")  
> -Disturbing images (stop at 'Yes, most likely,' start 'I'm not sure yet')

_One Month Later…_

“Janus.” 

The voice pierced through Janus’s veil of concentration, as it always had. A shiver ran down his spine as he listened to footprints tread the carpeted space of his room.

He hadn’t heard anyone come in.

Remus was getting good at this.

“Remus, I have told you countless times not to enter my room whilst I am meditating,” Janus said, finally cracking his eyes open. By then Remus was standing in front of Janus, staring down. His gaze hovered over the scarred half of Janus’s face for a moment before returning to his eyes. His expression was sober, something unheard of for the man.

_Who had to die to make him look like that?_ Janus wondered incredulously.

“This was important.”

“So you say. What is it?” Janus said. He hoisted himself up from his sitting position to face Remus.

“One of our agents located information from the RIIS mainframe of a safe house in the area. They say it’s quite probable that Virgil is there.”

Janus hesitated a moment, trying to read the emptiness of Remus’s expression. There was an awkward static between them that made him want to step backwards, away from whatever was emanating from Remus. And this time it wasn’t even the smell of garbage. “And?”

“That’s it.”

“There’s something else. What is it?”

“That’s all the intel we got on Virgil. There’s nothing else to tell.”

“I’m not talking about Virgil.”

A pause. Remus’s eyes flicked down to the floor, and Janus could scarcely breath for fear of blowing away Remus’s words.

Janus counted sixteen seconds before Remus spoke.

“You already know what it is, Jan. Why drag it out?” He said softly, striking a nerve in Janus’s heart he had forgotten he owned.

_Oh._

_I…I hurt him._

_I thought that no one could hurt him, and here I am. A supposed ally—no, a friend._

_What can I do to make this right?_

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Janus said lightly. They held eye contact for a moment, Remus’s expression changing to something Janus couldn’t quite process. 

Remus gave a light nod and navigated his way around Janus. “COTECH wants to launch a raid on the safe house. We’re meeting in twenty minutes in the lecture hall to discuss it.”

——

The violins struck their first chord just as Virgil set into position. He closed his eyes, freezing the moment in his mind, letting the plaguing memories seep out of him through his fingertips: they were lifted high above his head as his old instructor had once taught. _To expel inhibitions and fear from one’s performance_. As the violins faded into an oboe solo, Virgil moved his right foot in a rond de jambe, his body flowing and leaning into the motion until he had performed a full spin. He let the music from the radio flow through his body as he moved into the ballet sequence he learned long ago.

The open downstairs living room in the safe house made for a perfect space to practice, and hopefully relieve some of the tension that had been creeping into his body. The flow of ballet—though it had never been something he liked in training—had always provided Virgil the focus and clarity that he needed.

He had forgotten that.

Virgil extended his arms in a smooth curved shape for every crescendo of the oboe’s solo. He was, after all, dancing with the music. It was his partner: curling around each of his limbs, lifting him up and making him light as a feather. The harp that joined in with the sound was Virgil’s cue for a step sequence his weapons instructor taught him—perfect for a subtle jab of the knife into one’s side, while calm enough to mimic a ballet dancer. He tripped on one step, but recovered quickly, ending in a pose with one hand extended in front of him, where he usually held a knife, and the other curved over his head. He balanced on one foot, the other pointed behind him.

A couple more notes, and the oboe and harp surrendered to the brass, who took over the melody like a dark, towering storm cloud. Virgil broke out of his pose by pulling his extended leg in behind him, converting the energy into dizzying sets of spins, the tension building and bringing his arms closer to his body. He reached one curved arm above his head, noting the protest he felt in his shoulders. A move that needed to be smoothed out. As the brass began to calm their intense melody, he slowed down the sequence of his spins.

The tension relinquished and Virgil extended one leg and flowed into a soutenu, followed by a complex set of motions his old instructor had taught him—these ones designed for a sustained flow into combat. As he danced, the turns increasing in difficulty with the growing volume of the music, he hardly noticed his hand finding the knife blade in his pocket—it was muscle memory; subconscious. The music wrapped around his arms, spinning him further and urging him to push his limbs to the limit—just as he had once done in training. The twirls, sissonnes, and pirouettes were a flurry of movement, and the knife was simply an extension of Virgil’s hand. The metered fall of the strings, then the brass, building to the climax of the piece was his cue.

Upon the next swell of the brass, the knife slipped smoothly from Virgil’s hand, pinning an exact point on the wall as Virgil completed his last spin and prepared for a smaller step sequence to finish the piece.

He had killed five people this way—giving them their final performance. No one ever suspected him; he was moving too fast for their eyes to catch the blade.

By the end of the song, his head was clear of some of the smoke polluting his conscious. In his final pose, he breathed once more, indulging in the odd feeling of freedom: freedom of the burden pressing his chest down and…and perhaps from COTECH as well, ironically enough.

Virgil rolled his neck in a circle to stretch it out once more. He let the quiet in the room flow into his lungs and through his body. For the first time in days, he was not seeing death.

“You—you do ballet?” Virgil whipped around to see Roman staring back at him from the doorway. His arm was held at an awkward angle, and it took Virgil a moment to notice why: the knife blade Virgil released from his hand had landed on the sleeve of Roman’s shirt, pinning him to the wall. In his other hand, he held a cup of tea, effectively making him unable to free himself.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry,” Virgil rushed, crossing over to the wall where Roman stood.

“It’s fine, Virge. You didn’t hurt me. And besides, it was quite the entertaining performance,” Roman chuckled as Virgil attempted to dislodge the knife. The latter tried to ignore the blush that was surfacing on his cheeks.

“Very few people…” Virgil grunted as he tugged at the knife once more, “Have seen me practice.”

“I consider myself lucky, then,” Roman said, completely entranced in Virgil’s movements. “Damn, you must have hit a wooden beam to keep that knife lodged in place for this long. I _know_ how strong you are.”

“I’m just glad I…I didn’t hit you,” Virgil said, giving the knife another yank—to no avail. “My instructor trained me to kill with that knife throw.”

“ _That_ is equal parts terrifying and…strangely…attractive,” Roman said, furrowing his brows.

“What, the being able to kill people with a single knife throw thing?”

“More like the fact that you’ve pinned me to the wall with said knife and now you are standing less than four inches away from me. Staring intensely into my ey…” Roman trailed off as they made eye contact, Virgil quirking a brow smugly. Suddenly he surged forward and let his lips meet Roman’s, Virgil’s hand moving from the knife hilt to Roman’s side. Roman’s arm relaxedas he leaned forward and the shirt tore away from the blade, though already forgotten by the two. Interlocked, they danced their way across the room to a couch, where, in a short burst of sensibility, Roman set his tea on the floor before they collapsed back on the couch.

“How’s Patton?” Virgil said in between kisses.

“Hm?”

“Did you talk to him today?”

Roman pulled back for a second. “Yeah. He’s doing fine. Logan’s being good to him. Logan—he’s good for him.”

“Even if he is a prick,” Virgil muttered.

“Everyone deserves love. He just doesn’t see that yet.”

“I think you’re being too kind to him.”

“He’ll come around, eventually.”

“Ah, stop talking and kiss me already,” Virgil murmured. Roman obliged with a chuckle, pulling Virgil down on top of him. After a minute Virgil had begun to fiddle with the buttons on Roman’s shirt, but he stopped cold when Roman’s hand touched his. He drew back quickly, a blush washing over his face.

“I—I’m sorry I didn’t mean to push or anything I was just kind of messing with them—”

“Virge. It’s okay. Obviously I didn’t make it clear enough, but I was giving you permission,” Roman said sincerely, his hand finding Virgil’s again.

Virgil wasn’t quite sure what to do with this. He hadn’t really anticipated—no, he hadn’t thought he was going to be kissing Roman today at all. Yeah, it had been a month since **_the incident_** and he _had_ been rebuilding the confidence he had before…but _oh God it seems like all this is moving fast and what if I hurt him? I nearly killed him with a knife just a few minutes ago and I could do something dangerous…and he’s giving me permission to unbutton his shirt that should be such a small thing but it feels like I’m invading and maybe it’ll be awkward and—_

Before he knew it, Virgil had stood up from the couch and backed away. Several steps away. Roman sat up from where he—they—had been laying, looking… _confused? Concerned?_

_Hurt?_

_Oh no, I fucked it up. Shit._

The alarm bells were going off in the back of his head again as he searched for something reasonable to say, some way to explain…

“Virgil,” Roman said. He was at his side now. _When did he get there? Wait, when did_ we _get_ here?

They were on the floor now, though Virgil hardly remembered getting there. Roman held his hand, brushing his thumb gently over the the side of Virgil’s.

“Virgil, it’s okay,” He started softly, “We don’t have to…take it a step further if you don’t want to. I know it’s…well, awkward, and probably a bit new, and that’s okay. If you’re not ready you’re not ready. There’s nothing wrong with that. All it was was an open invitation—you get to make the call.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil blurted out.

“I’m not upset, Virge.”

“But…you want to go further than that.”

“Doesn’t matter. Until you are ready too, we’re not going to go further. Okay?”

“I might not move fast enough for you, Ro…”

“There’s no ‘fast enough,’ trust me. As long as I’m with you,” Roman whispered, brushing back a strand of Virgil’s hair, “I have all the time in the world. The fact that we’ve gotten this far is enough for me. I mean, I never even thought…”

“…We were two ‘enemies’…”

“…Yet here we are,” Roman grinned, placing a kiss on Virgil’s forehead before he sprung up again. He extended his hand and Virgil took it. “Lunch?”

“Sounds great,” Virgil smiled, holding tight to Roman.

——

“Logan, I’ve been speaking with Roman,” Patton said, taking a deep breath. He scowled into his reflection in the mirror. “No, no that won’t work. You sound too _formal_. How do I keep him from being upset?”

He paced around the bathroom, scratching his forehead. “‘So I called Roman on the phone yesterday and…’ Maybe. But it might be too casual.” _What if that makes him not want to trust me?_

_Any of this could make him not want to trust me._

With a sigh, Patton stared back into the mirror. He adjusted his thin-wired glasses on his nose, took one more deep breath. “Logan, I’ve been talking to Roman.”

“‘Talking to’ has some interesting connotations,” Logan said nonchalantly as he entered the bathroom, grabbing a comb and proceeding to fix his hair as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “I’d try something more along the lines of ‘calling him occasionally’.”

“You—wait, you knew?” Patton furrowed his brows. “How did you know…?”

“Patton, I am a spy that specializes in interrogation techniques.”

Patton’s shoulders drooped a bit. “You’re not mad at me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Should I be? Is that something normal people in relationships get mad about?” He set down the comb and turned around to face Patton, leaning on the counter.

“I—I don’t know. I thought you would be…because you’re not talking to him.”

“ _That_ ,” Logan said, adjusting his tie, “is my own fault. I don’t hate him, I simply made a mistake. As long as you are not trying to clean up my mess for me—it is my own responsibility to do so—then I see no problem in you talking to him.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you trying to fix things with Roman?”

Logan sighed. “I tried, a couple nights after we fought. He didn’t want to talk then, which is understandable.”

“What about after that?” Patton scrunched his brows in concern. 

“I haven’t tried since then. I suppose his relationship with that COTECH agent still bothers me.”

Patton’s lip twitched. “He’s more than just a COTECH agent, Lo.”

_Right. He’s…Patton’s friend._

“I—Patton, the only reason I say that is because of what he did to Roman.”

“What, the stabbing him at the gala? Logan, Virgil was under the influence of some sort of memory drug, leading Roman on wasn’t part of a COTECH strategy,” Patton pressed. The tone of his voice bordered on frustration.

“No, I mean what happened afterwards—Virgil was leading Roman on before, yes, but that was unintentional, and I’ll give him that. But he continued to do so afterwards to save himself. Re-opened Roman’s stab wound. _Kidnapped_ him, even. Most likely manipulated his feelings—”

“Virgil wouldn’t do that!” Patton said, folding his arms angrily. “And I’m not just saying that because of my time in high school with him. He—when I talk to him now, he’s happy. So is Roman. Have you ever thought that it wasn’t just ‘leading Roman on’ after the serum? Have you ever thought that maybe those feelings were _real,_ and that’s why Virgil kept coming back?”

Logan pressed his lips into a thin line. He glanced down at his feet for a minute, struggling for the right words. The right ideas.

He wasn’t _supposed_ to be at a loss for words. He was supposed to know what to say. So why couldn’t he even think straight?

_Could_ it be real, between Roman and Virgil?

_“Sometimes you have to ask. You’re not always right, and that’s okay. Asking ‘why?’ doesn’t make you unintelligent, it makes you well-rounded.”_ Logan recalled someone telling him that once; the voice was one long-forgotten.

_That…that I can do. A logical argument reaching a sensible conclusion._

“I—I suppose I don’t understand how it could be real between them, after all those things that happened.” Logan paused and took a breath, watching Patton’s arms loosen from their crossed position. “Could you…could you help me understand?”

Patton relaxed. “Yeah. I can do that.”

——

“So…Safe house raid?”

“Safe house raid.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird…”

“We’re in the right conference room, Janus.”

“Then where is everyone?”

Janus had found it unusual that they had been ordered to the small conference room for the safe house briefing—this was theoretically supposed to be a large scale operation. Janus had been thinking at least sixteen agents should be assigned to it, including themselves.

He found it weirder yet that Remus and Janus were the only ones in the tiny conference room.

And that the meeting was supposed to have started ten minutes ago. The Director wasn’t big on tardiness. He discouraged it…harshly.

“There’s something wrong here. Remus, are you sure you got the right time? Maybe they scheduled it later?”

Remus dug into his pocket, producing a slip of paper. “Check it yourself. They slid it under my door just before I came to get you.”

_Mission Call: Agents Duke & Deceit_

_Briefing: 6:30 pm, room 224_

_Mission: RIIS Safehouse Raid_

Janus read the slip, furrowing his brows. “There are…a lot of problems with this. For one, why did they just slip a piece of paper under your door?”

“Dunno. Maybe it was an intern who heard about my reputation.”

“True, no man, woman, or nonbinary individual would go near you after hearing _that_.”

“Eh, you’re still here,” Remus shrugged, kicking his feet up on the row of seats in front of him, “So I must be doing something right.”

Janus flushed a little at the comment, but kept going. “The other problem with this is the fact that we didn’t get notified in the typical way as well. _And_ the vague description of the mission. They didn’t even include our real names? And it’s handwritten…why isn’t it typed, at _least_? Unless…” He looked at the familiar script.

Janus glanced at Remus, who had been notably quiet. Especially for Remus.

“…Remus? Do you have something you want to say?”

Remus hesitated a moment. “We’re on the outs, Janus.”

“What?” Janus said, with more edge in his voice than he had meant.

  
  
“Director omitted us from this mission. Said we were too emotionally involved with the subject to be effective in the case. And, well, he wasn’t exactly satisfied with our performance on the last mission. The briefing is occurring somewhere else. The slip of paper…I made that.”

“So why the hell are we here? We need to get to that briefing room and _demand_ a spot on that mission!”

“No. I have a better idea.” Remus said carefully. Janus narrowed his eyes. “Listen. This room’s not bugged, I checked it before I came to your barracks. Do you remember our class final after our first year of training?”

“When we…ambushed the archives?”

“Exactly. We need to do that again.”

Janus paused for a moment, studying his partner. “What do you know?”

“Not enough. Why did they choose Virgil for the superspy experiments?”

“They told me it was because he had always focused on the mission—never got personally involved.”

“Yeah, but since when is that enough? They didn’t even look for his physicals. Nor his c _onsent_ ,” Remus said, his jaw clenched. The memory of Virgil screaming those exact words was still fresh in his mind.

Janus began to catch on. “But…instead they asked us to abduct him from his room in the middle of the night.” He reached his hand to touch his side, where Virgil had cut him the first time COTECH tested on him. 

“See, and here’s the thing: he wasn’t the first person they picked. You remember the others,” Remus said, his voice softer, as if someone might be listening in. “He wasn’t so special as they told us. We need to figure out who the others ar—were. Why they were picked as test subjects.”

“Holy fuck,” Janus exhaled, pressing a gloved hand to his face.

“If we weren’t in the middle of such a pressing issue, I might ask if that’s what you say in bed—”

“ _Damn it_ , Remus, you were doing so well.”

“Almost got you that time,” Remus noted offhand, standing up and walking briskly towards the door before Janus could say anything. “C’mon.”

“How exactly do you expect us to get in to the archives?” Janus asked.

“Do what you always do, _Deceit_.”

“Deceit,” The spy said plainly. “Alright. I have an idea.”

“Perfect. Now pretend like we’ve been making out,” Remus said, prompting an eyebrow raise from Janus. “Okay, I’m serious this time. Our coworkers are going to be suspicious if they see us alone in a conference room. The only way to explain it without causing more problems is, well…”

“You and your dirty mind,” Janus muttered. “Fine.”

He took off his hat and mussed up his hair, instructing Remus to do the same. Then, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and crumpled the collar. He pulled out a makeup compact from his pocket and brushed a light blush over his cheeks and the tips of his ears, handed the compact to Remus so he could follow suit, and pinched his lower and upper lips to mimic the effects of kissing.

“So, uh, I kinda forgot how to…” Remus said, holding the brush and compact in his hands. Janus sighed, taking the makeup from Remus’s hands.

“Every time, Remus. How many times have I told you how to do this?” He muttered, getting some of the powder on his brush and reaching up to Remus’s cheeks. “You want to brush right here, on the top of the cheeks…and the tips of your ears, if you want to be believable. Then pinch your lips like that. Good. And make your clothing look more…disrupted.”

Remus decided, as usual, not to point out that he knew perfectly well how to apply blush.

“So. After we leave the conference room, you should go to your room and get ready. We want to be as covert as possible when we break in.”

“Right.”

“Ready?”

  
  
“Why the hell not,” Janus said, pocketing the compact as Remus wrapped an arm around his waist. Janus tried to ignore the flutter he felt as Remus leaned in closer to him, opening the door and spinning around him as they left the room.

_It’s an act. Just remember it’s all an act. It’s. Not. Real,_ Janus thought to himself as he grinned back at Remus’s whispered flirting—most of it more obscene than Remus’s dreamy expression might have suggested from a distance. _Dreamy…hm._ Janus didn’t like the way his heart was beating at that particular moment.

They caught the glances of a couple of agents as they made their way down the hall, whilst _acting_ entranced in each other’s eyes. None of them suspicious, and they even received a snicker.

“ _Get your hand off my ass_ ,” Janus hissed through his teeth, maintaining his fluttery grin.

“Fine, fine,” Remus whispered back, his lips brushing against Janus's ear. The latter man shivered.

Remus left Janus at his door with a promise to meet in thirty minutes and one question hanging over the latter man’s head: Since when did he scold Remus out of habit, rather than actual annoyance?

——

_How do you tell someone you want to spend the rest of your life with them?_

Virgil stared out at the expanse of the city, his legs dangling over the edge of the safe house roof. He watched the lights of the tallest buildings flicker on one by one, preparing for the sun to perform its dance over the horizon. He mulled over the question, letting the view of the city fade into the background of his mind.

He hadn’t before realized what the aching in his chest meant; the one he got when he saw Roman flash a smile or felt his arms wrap around and envelop him. The one he got when he imagined what life would look like with Roman beside him.

Roman let him heal—without conditions, without expectations. And, yeah, the healing was definitely still a work in progress, but Virgil realized that it wouldn’t have been a work in anything had Roman not been there.

_As if I needed one more reason to love him_ , Virgil thought, a small smile growing on his face.

The ache in Virgil’s chest had only grown in the past few weeks—was it possible to love someone so much that it hurt?

He had never felt the overwhelming urge to want to be _around_ someone like he did with Roman. Just being near him was putting him at ease again; it made everything easier.

So he kept pondering that heavy weighted question until the sun was just touching the horizon. In his intense concentration, in which he began to glare at the nearest tall building, he neglected to notice the sound of a door opening, of footsteps on the roof.

“Hey,” Roman called out from behind Virgil, causing the latter man to jump. “I didn’t realize you had found this place, or I would’ve joined you sooner. How _did_ you get up here, by the way?” He said, settling himself on the ledge next to Virgil.

“I, uh, picked the lock. Needed something to do,” Virgil responded, trying to settle the blush—and the little smile—that were appearing on his face. “What’d you bring there?”

“Oh,” Roman reached behind himself and picked up a basket he had been carrying, filled with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “I thought it would be nice to…go on a date? Except I couldn’t find you until I checked up here.”

“A date?” Virgil smiled despite himself. “Roman, that’s…really cute.”

Roman shot him a lopsided grin. “Wine?”

“Sure.” Roman poured a glass and handed it to Virgil, then made one for himself. They sat in silence for a couple of moments, tentatively drinking, until Roman spoke up again.

“Something on your mind?” Virgil sensed it was more of an observation than a question. He bit his lower lip, thinking of the best way to form a response.

“You ever come back from a mission regretting something you did?” He said finally. Roman blinked, taking a sip of his wine.

“Of course. I think all agents do, at least once or twice. Why?”

“I’ve found myself…regretting a lot of them, recently.” He took another sip of wine, pursing his lips at the bitter taste it left. “Not because of the big thing,” Virgil added when he saw Roman’s concerned look. “Just other reasons.”

“Do you mind if I ask what those might be?”

Virgil exhaled slowly, causing his bangs to flutter up off his face for a brief moment. “I regret…hurting you. At the gala, and fighting you in that back alley when I _knew_ you were already in pain. And the times I hurt you worse.” Virgil exhaled, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. “It just…it gets me thinking, how much have I done that’s actually _good_? How much have I done that deserves forgiveness?”

_Ah. There it was. The root of the problem_.

_If Roman is so good to me, yet I’m not a good person, do I really deserve to even have him here at all?_

Roman blinked incredulously. “ _What?_ Virgil, you are more than deserving of forgiveness. You’re not a _bad person_ , on the contrary, you’re a really good one.”

“How? How can I possibly be a good person with the way I’ve _treated_ you—”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you’ve treated me, Virge, just having you here—”

“I just want to be good enough for you to want to stay,” Virgil blurted.

Silence.

“I want to laugh at your stupid jokes, to—to make pesto with you, to go on these dates…Roman, being around you means _everything_ and I’m always afraid that someday you’ll think of all those times I hurt you on a mission or left you behind and you won’t want to be with me and what if those moments of bad outweigh all the good in the end and—”

Roman placed a hand on Virgil’s cheek, turning his head towards Roman’s own. Virgil trailed off when he caught the intensity of Roman’s gaze.

“Virgil. If I thought the bad moments outweighed the good ones, I wouldn’t be here right now. They don’t. By _so much_ , they don’t. You are worth being around. You are worth being loved. And trust me, you’re not going to scare me off that easily,” He added with a grin.

Virgil bit his lip, feeling his chest tighten again as he drummed up the courage to say what he wanted to say all along. What he _needed_ to say.

“Roman, I…I love you.” He took a shaky breath. “And I _have_ loved you, ever since we first met. And—and I get this _tightness_ in my chest whenever I think about how there’s even a sliver of a chance that you’d want to be with me at all and spend time with me and at first I didn’t realize what it was but I’m sure of it n—”

Roman leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss on Virgil’s lips, sending a wave of dizziness over the latter.

“I love you, too,” he whispered when they finally pulled apart again. “Virgil, you mean the world to me. I wouldn’t give that up for anything. Trust me in that.”

Virgil hadn’t realized when he had started to cry, only that he was suddenly shaking and his cheeks seemed to be soaked in tears and Roman was drawing him into his chest. It was all a blur, really.

“I think you’ve had a little too much wine, my chemically imbalanced romance,” Roman said, gently plucking the empty wineglass from Virgil’s grasp. He hummed some songs he remembered to be calming until the tears subsided a few minutes later. Then he brushed the hair out of Virgil’s eyes, noticing how it shimmered in the golden light of the setting sun. The purple was almost faded now, only visible if he squinted.

“That was embarrassing,” Virgil said after a couple of minutes, his voice muffled by Roman’s jacket.

“On the contrary, I thought it was adorable,” Roman chuckled, causing Virgil’s blush to deepen. “And…damn, I’ve been waiting a long time to say that.”

“Me too.” Virgil said, moving closer so he could lean on Roman’s shoulder.

Below them, a street band began to play a familiar jazz tune. Its melody drifted up towards the two, until Roman found himself humming along with the melody. He was then struck with an idea to alleviate the mood.

“Want to dance?” He said, setting down his wineglass and springing up suddenly. He extended a hand to a stunned Virgil—who was wondering if he was getting whiplash at that point.

“I—I don’t know how?”

“Psh. I’ll teach you anything you don’t already know from ballet.” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, and he took Roman’s hand after a moment of consideration.

From the moment he stood up, Roman twirled Virgil about, until they came to settle on a simple swing dance; even then, by the time the sun had dipped from the horizon, the dance became rocking back and forth in a comfortable embrace. The smell of wine mingled with that of Roman’s cologne and the night air; fresher and clearer than that of the city streets, and not as cold as it was on the roofs of those tall buildings their city was known for. The sky darkened as the shadows of the sun stretched out before them, casting them in the reds and purples of twilight.

It was long after dark when Roman yawned and went downstairs for the night, Virgil promising to follow in a couple of minutes. Before he went down, however, he took one more breath of the fresh air and gazed out at the colorful, glowing city he called home. The tightness in his chest had changed to something else just then: Relief. Joy. It felt like he couldn’t breathe deeply enough, like his heart had expanded and he was floating over it all.

Feeling carefree was a nice change.

As Virgil turned back towards the roof access door, he could’ve sworn he heard a faint clattering sound. He furrowed his brows, quickening his pace. _What could Roman be doing down t_ —

The sudden and distinct sound of shattering glass was unmistakable. Virgil’s hands went cold on the door handle, which he tried to yank open, only to find that it had jammed. Virgil cursed under his breath and rattled at the door handle again.

A gunshot echoed out, followed by more shattered glass.

“Roman!” Virgil yelled, giving another yank. The handle snapped off in Virgil’s hand and he kicked the door down, racing down the steps. The ten seconds it took to get down felt like an eternity. He tripped on the bottom step and fell forward into a pool of…

_Oh God, is that blood?_ He felt his throat tighten. In the dark, it was difficult to tell what the red substance spilled on the floor was.

He remembered with a sickness that blood would’ve been thicker, warmer…especially if it had just been spilt. No, this smelled like wine.

_The bottle broke…how_?

“Roman? Are you here?” Virgil called out, his hands and arms stinging. He looked down and realized shards of glass had cut his fingers, palms…the alcohol was causing the burning pain. He shuddered at the sensation of his own warm blood dripping down his fingers. “Roman!” He called again.

He winced as he stood, careful to avoid slipping on the glass shards.

_There was a gunshot. Where is he?_ Dread started to twist his insides into knots. As soon as he was safely out of the pool of wine on the floor, he ran for the light switch, using the back of his hand to turn it on. He took another survey of the room, his heart dropping into his stomach.

There had been a struggle. The furniture of the front room had been disrupted and upturned. It looked as though the bottle of wine had been thrown at something or someone; there was a large splatter of the red substance on the wall next to the stairwell. Glass fragments everywhere. He turned to the window, and saw that it had been left open.

The worst part was, he knew exactly what this was.

It was a trademark COTECH abduction technique, used on RIIS agents. The patterns were clear, followed to the letter. Probably rookie agents, given the amount of struggle it took.

_This was planned._

_They took Roman._

_They took him. What do I do? Roman, what do I do?_ He felt sick, overcome with violent shuddering as he crumpled to the floor. The room was spinning around him.

_I just got him back and he’s gone again—_

“No…no, no no…” _I couldn’t protect him._

_I left him. I left him. No, no no…._

Gradually, his dread and fear melted into something else—something he hadn’t felt in a while. Anger. Bitter hatred—COTECH-borne hatred—welling up in his stomach, infusing his blood with seething flames that numbed the pain of the glass cuts. His hands were shaking as he pulled out the glass shards, one by one, letting the hatred steep, until all of the fragments had clattered to the floor.

_Pull yourself together, Virgil. You are going to save him._

_You are going to make them wish they had never met you._

**“ _But you’ll need help to do that,”_** _a familiar voice sounded out. Other Virgil was sitting next to him, in the grey expanse. The fractures of light shattering the mindscape were smaller now—but that only made them sharper._

_“It’s nice of you to volunteer, but I doubt you could help me take down an entire agency. I know what I need to do.”_

_“_ **_I’m not talking about me. I think you know exactly who I mean,”_ ** _Other Virgil said. A light shard floated past Virgil’s face, illuminating a two familiar people._

_Logan. And Patton._

_“Look, Logan’s not going to help me. You should know that as well as I do; he doesn’t approve of us,” Virgil grumbled. “Besides, Patton isn’t even an agent.”_

**_“Logan will help. At the very least, he will help for Roman’s sake.”_ ** _Virgil’s lips tightened into a thin line._ **_“It’s been a month. Things change, Virgil. And you need help._ ** _”_

_He sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it—for Roman.”_

Virgil pushed himself up from the wall, barely noticing the pain of his hands. He strode to the medicine cabinet, wrapping them in tightly wound bandages. He found his old black coat hanging in Roman’s closet--unused since he had escaped--and put it on, the jacket molding to his figure as if he had never set it down.

_I have to face my pain—to face my trauma,_ he thought, taking a shaky breath.

_‘I will do anything I can to keep you safe_.’

_So will I, Roman._

_Anything._

——

Janus met Remus as agreed, outside his barracks. He had decided to keep the prosthesis off, flaunting the burn scars he owned. He could’ve sworn he saw Remus examining them when he walked out of his room, but he didn’t mention it if he had. Remus himself looked…different, whether it was from the greased-back hair or the fact that he had obviously taken a shower.

Whatever it was, it didn’t distract them for long from their primary mission. Remus had procured some comms earpieces in case of emergencies, and he filled Janus in on the plan as they made their way over to the Records department. He explained it sentence by sentence, stopping in between when any other agents were nearby.

“Okay, so to sum up…I heading through the annex room, and you’re finding a way through the ventilation?” Janus asked.

“Essentially, yes. I have a decent idea of where the records will be held, and we can work from there. These files should be in alphabetical order, so it won’t be terribly difficult.”

“Right,” Janus said, wringing his gloved hands together. They continued to walk in silence for a few more minutes, trying their best not to look suspicious.

“Janus,” Remus said suddenly. “I noticed you weren’t wearing your…”

“I am not. You have a problem with that?” He said tensely.

“Not at all,” Remus said. “I think it looks hot.”

Janus flushed. He knew Remus was straightforward, but that was…well, he wasn’t even attempting to hide it anymore. A quick, subtle glance at Remus confirmed that it wasn’t a slip.

“Thank you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

No one had ever told him his scars were…well, anything. They just weren’t discussed. People assumed that he might murder someone if he was even asked about them. And so he assumed that they contorted his face in some ugly way that made them unspeakable. It had always been humiliating—and yet, here was Remus.

The one person who didn’t seem to be afraid of him.

Maybe they were more alike than he thought: everyone believed they had to be afraid of them. 

“Ah. This is my stop,” Janus said suddenly, breaking off to reach the stairwell to the downstairs archives.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” Remus murmured. Janus sent him a quick nod before he descended.

_Maybe him and I are more alike than I thought._

_Hm._

——

A thunderous knocking on the door woke both Patton and Logan. Logan was up in an instant, checking the time on his alarm clock before he picked up his glasses and weapon. Patton kicked his legs over the other side of the bed, standing up to follow, but Logan held up a cautionary hand. Weapon loaded, the spy crept towards the door. By the time he reached it, the aggressive knocking had started anew. Logan backed himself against the wall and quickly turned the handle, letting the door open only a gap before Logan pointed his weapon through at the unexpected visitor.

_Wait. This…this doesn’t make sense._ But Logan was already connecting the dots as he stepped backward, lowering his gun cautiously. The figure in front of him was panting. Bleeding. He remembered stitching up the man’s wounds himself before.

“What are you doing here?” The words slipped from his mouth before he realized he had said them.

Virgil took in another gulp of air, extending an arm to lean on the wall. He winced, having seemingly forgotten about the bandages wrapped around his hands. “Please. I need to talk to you.”

Logan hesitated a moment before pulling him inside, taking one more glance outside for anyone who might be tracking Virgil on foot. “Tell me what happened.”

“I—I escaped from COTECH. They were—doing experiments on me. Made me forget Patton. And lots more. Important things. Roman—I went to Roman when I—escaped. He took me to a safe house. We’ve been there for a month. But—COTECH raided it.” Logan observed the strong scent of wine on on Virgil, but realized with confusion that the man was not at all drunk. 

Patton crept into the room, listening to Virgil’s account. “Wait, where is Roman?” He asked, scanning the room.

“They took him,” Virgil huffed out, half sobbing. “Please.”

Logan glanced back at Patton, who rushed forward to embrace his friend. “Come here, come here…we’re going to have you sit down right here, just for a minute, okay?”

“I…I need to find him…”

“We will, Virge. Let me just talk to Logan, okay? We’re going to figure it out, I promise,” Patton said softly, easing Virgil onto the couch.

Logan listened from the front room as the muffled sobs slowly died down. Patton reappeared in the doorway a moment later, concern washed over his face. Logan shook his head, trying to brush off any shock he felt. He holstered his gun, which had been hanging loosely from his hands.

“He’s terrified,” Patton said. “I heard they did some horrible things to Virgil back at the agency, but…this is beyond that.”

“Well, they just took the person he loves the most and they might do the same to Roman as they did to him. That feeling is more terrible than anything they could do to him,” Logan said plainly. “It’s the same feeling that compelled me to…drop off the map for a while.”

Patton looked down at his feet. “What’s the plan, then?”

“I’m going with him. To COTECH. Virgil has a detailed knowledge of their facilities that will be useful in breaking in and—”

“I’m going with you,” Patton said suddenly.

“What? Patton, you have no idea how to fire a gun. Invading a rival agency is incredibly dangerous even for a seasoned agent, how do you expect to—”

Patton put a finger to Logan’s lips, giving him a glance that told him _there’s more to this than you think_. He then pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a watch on his wrist.

A RIIS-issue watch.

Logan blinked.

“Agent Patton Hart," he mumbled reluctantly. 

Logan stared in awe, which quickly morphed into something else. “Patton, what the _hell_? _You_? An agent?”

Patton opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself. “Y-yeah.”

“And you never even thought to tell me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not? I don’t understand. I was able to tell you, why couldn’t you have come clean to me as well?”

“The director specifically instructed me not to reveal my identity. I’ve been on a deep undercover mission for longer than I’ve _known_ you. And I wanted to tell you, a long time ago. But the director asks for updates and she has reminded me not to share my mission with anyone and I’m _sorry,_ I’ve felt guilty about this for a long time. Ever since I saw Virgil’s leg and knew I couldn’t do anything about it because of my mission status…” He trailed off under Logan's judicial gaze.

Logan took a deep breath, studying the man in front of him. “So…you are a spy. I assume you trained in the same facilities as us?”

“It’s likely, but I started a year after you, I think. Maybe two, I don’t know.” Patton furrowed his brows.

“And what has your job been for the past…three or more years?”

“I’ve been monitoring a local mafia front that was listed in the ‘red’ category. I also have a beta comms system in the back of my shop.”

“Why is a mafia assignment grounds for such an extent of secrecy?”

“Because…” Patton bit his lip. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But I will. I've been pretending for too long and I’m tired of lying to the person I care about.” He sighed. “The mafia is believed to be supplying or smuggling weapons and supplies to COTECH.I’ve busted a couple of the smuggling runs that the mafia organization has commenced. And they’re probably doing more—I’ve also investigated a couple of mysterious bodies that have turned up outside the walls of the mafia front. They looked like they had been…experimented on. With COTECH’s endorsement, no doubt. Or maybe COTECH was just trying to make the bodies disappear via the mafia.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, blinking a couple of times before he could reorient himself.

“Logan, please. I know this is a lot to take in. I didn’t want to hurt you by not telling you but I swear—”

“Patton,” Logan said firmly. “I will admit, I am upset. But I understand this: RIIS’s orders…were out of our control. I suppose I am upset with the situation as a whole. But not with you, Patton. Never with you.”

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

“I know,” He responded quietly. "I am too." After a couple of seconds, he reached out and drew Patton into a hug. He hadn’t realized how much he needed it at that exact moment. “Can we just promise that we can trust each other, from now on? I know I cannot demand that you tell me the truth all the time, being an agent and everything. But let’s please just _trust_ each other. You’re all that I have, Patton.”

“I promise,” Patton said wholeheartedly. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to get that off my chest, Logan.”

Logan didn’t respond except to pull Patton closer to himself. He sighed into Patton’s shoulder, wishing for the millionth time that he had all the answers.

Wishing he could explain how his love for Patton was unconditional. Even if he freaked out sometimes. Even if he didn’t fully understand trivial emotions.

_Some day I will. Some day, after this is all over—I’ll make sure he knows._

_Wait a second._ Logan’s mind took off racing in a million directions at once, and suddenly he pulled together the missing pieces of the puzzle.

“Patton, I’ve got it!” He said, drawing away from the hug. “I have a plan for raiding COTECH. We need to get Virgil.”

“Really?” Patton’s face lit up with excitement. He followed Logan into the sitting room, where Virgil had fallen asleep on the couch. Logan approached him closely, reaching out to wake him. It didn’t take long; Virgil slept light, no doubt as a result of the pain he was in.

Patton frowned at Virgil’s bandaged hands. “Virgil, you need a bandage change. What happened there?”

Virgil yawned. “I—fell on broken glass when they took him. I couldn’t get down fast enough to stop them…” His voice broke. The bandages were neatly matted with red by then—Patton made quick work of washing out the cuts and wrapping clean bandages over the wound. Logan began to explain the plan in the meantime. By the time Virgil was settled back on the couch, he had finished.

“So when do we start?” Virgil asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Logan said. “First, you need rest. Speaking of which, I’m going to find him a blanket,” Logan told Patton.

“Wait, no. We have to do this as soon as possible. They could have already started to hurt him, Logan!” Virgil said, trying to sit up from the couch. Patton held him back.

“Logan’s right, Virge. You need rest. Trust me, it’ll be better if you have time to sleep before the mission. You’ll be more alert. And I am _sure_ that Roman would want that too. He will be okay. He’s strong.”

“COTECH can break him. They broke me,” Virgil said softly. Patton patted his shoulder, a look of concern stuck on his face. Logan returned with the blanket and draped it over Virgil.

“Have faith in him, Virge,” Logan said. “He’s well trained for this. Now get some sleep. Food in the morning, then we go.”

Virgil sighed, hesitating a minute. “Okay.”

Patton patted his shoulder one more time before standing up and following Logan back to their room. He called out “good night” to Virgil, but the man was already fast asleep.

When he closed the door to their bedroom, Patton spun around.

“Logan, something horrible is happening at COTECH.” 

“Yes, most likely.”

“I mean, they’re ditching bodies. Making people disappear. _Experimenting_ on them. In three years, they’ve cleared records of the people we find so fast that we have no way to tie it back to COTECH. What are they doing? What has Virgil seen?” He shuddered.

“I’m not sure yet,” Logan furrowed his brows. “But we will know soon, whether or not we want to. I just hope we’re ready for it when it does come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. It has been exactly two months since I last updated, and I apologize for the wait. And, er...the cliffhanger. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you who decided to read! I appreciate your support and, as always, leave a kudos and a comment!


	21. A Grave Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some discoveries you just can't forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? I added a chapter onto the chapter count? hehehehe
> 
> SPOILERS FOR THE NEWEST SS EPISODE BELOW:
> 
> I will be using the name Janus from now on! Older chapters will be edited for his name in the future!
> 
> WARNINGS FOR: discussions of violence, language.

_9:19 p.m._

Janus sifted through musty rows of files, taking out the occasional mission report or ops that seemed familiar. So far he hadn’t had any luck finding the files they needed on Virgil—neither had Remus. But Remus seemed to be certain that they were here somewhere. This was where they kept, as he put it, the _undesirables_.

“Are you sure they didn’t just destroy the file before Virgil released any information to the public?”

“They can’t. it’s ongoing research, they need that information to start up where they left off.” Remus left out the part about _when they get Virgil back_ , but the two of them both knew.

If he came back, it wouldn’t be willing.

If he came back…Janus could already imagine the screams.

He suddenly felt like hurling.

Remus seemed to pick up on Janus’s sudden change in mood. “You good there?”

Janus took a breath, collecting himself. “Fine.”

“Don’t throw up on the files.”

They continued searching for another twenty minutes, with little luck. Remus found a folder with information on Virgil, but it wasn’t his agent profile. It was pictures…taken as though a private investigator had been following him; they were incredibly blurry and obviously a rush job. What that meant, the two of them had no idea. Remus, naturally, stowed them in his jacket to study later. It was another ten minutes before Janus found something.

“Remus, come here. I found the superspy experiments. I don’t see any person-specific case files, but they might be in here somewhere,” He said, already flipping through the pages. Just as Remus got there, however, the room lit up with red flashing light.

Remus cursed under his breath, squinting as the lights blared overhead.

“Wait, that’s not for us, Remus. Volatile asset has entered the facility.” Remus’s head snapped to Janus.

“Janus, grab the files. We have to get out of here. That could be him,” He said quickly.

“The safe house raid? They did it?” Janus breathed. Remus nodded, and Janus snatched the entire file, stowing it into his cloak. “Let’s get out of here.”

The two fled the archives room from their respective entrances, Janus quickly making his way to his room to hide the file. They wouldn’t be doing barrack sweeps for a while, but regardless, he stowed it carefully within the wall of his room—a special place he had carved out just in case. None of the barrack sweeps had found it before.

Two minutes later, there was a knock on his door. Janus opened it, expecting to find Remus. Instead, a young-looking agent was standing outside.

“Can I help you?” Janus asked. The young agent’s eyes widened when they saw Janus’s scars, and they took a subconsciousstep backwards. Janus’s eye twitched.

“T-the director w-wants you to identify an asset we just acquired. Agent Virgil Morris.” they stammered. Janus narrowed his eyes. _Oh, so now they need my help, eh?_

“Lead the way,” he murmured, an edge evident in his voice. Just before the agent turned around, however, Janus reached out and gripped their shoulder.

“Sir?” Their eyes drifted back to the burn scars on Janus’s face.

“A word of advice,” Janus said, his voice icy. “If these scars terrify you, then maybe you should resign from COTECH. You _will_ see much worse in the field. Someone’s physical attributes should be the _least of your worries._ Am I clear?”

“Yes sir,” the agent said quickly, and Janus released their shoulder.

“Good. Take me to the asset.”

It only took five minutes to get to the holding room, and on the way he was joined by Remus (along with a very frazzled agent, much like Janus’s own guide). Remus gave him a quick nod, confirming that he had hid the documents he found as well. Janus’s assigned agent paused outside the room, meeting with another young agent. _Where are all the experienced agents when you need them?_ Janus wondered, his eyes narrowed. After the agent had confirmed that the asset was secure, he nodded to Janus and Remus, who stepped forward. The agent opened the door for them and followed the two into the room.

Inside stood a single metal chair, welded to the floor. The man sitting in it had his hands bound behind him, and legs bound to each of the chair legs. There was a bag over his head. Janus scowled at the obvious signs of a rush job; _Virgil could easily break out if he wanted to_. He also noted the cuts in his arms and legs, the blood drying in streaks. Glass cuts.

The young agent stepped around the chair, grabbing the burlap bag over their asset’s head.

“Can you two identify this asset as agent Virgil Morris?” They said, pulling the bag off his head.

There was a beat of silence as Janus and Remus took in the face of the figure in front of them, before Janus’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“You _fools_ , you got the wrong guy!” He shouted, eyes fixed on the man in front of him.

Tousled hair. Lower lip cut. Sparkling eyes and a smug, defiant grin.

This wasn’t Virgil.

This was _Roman_. The bane of COTECH’s existence, apparently.

“Hey, Remus. Janus,” Roman grinned, his eyes landing on the latter. He watched as Janus stiffened. _Virgil told him. How much does he know now?_ “Wow, you guys are _really_ bad at your jobs. You thought you were kidnapping _Virgil_?” He tilted his head back and let out a laugh. “Don’t you people know what your own agents look like?”

Janus’s eyes felt like daggers on his skin, but they soon were redirected to a new target. The young agent stared, eyes wide, as Janus approached.

“ _You_ ,” He said, his voice dripping, “ _get out._ Inform the director of your team’s _incompetence_ before we leave this room. Go. _Now_.”

The agent obliged quickly, their pace quickening as they slipped out the door. Remus cracked his neck, knowing full well what would come next. Janus whipped back around towards Roman, his gaze set.

“So what have you two been up to in the last two months?” Roman said, leaning back as best he could in his chair. “Find someone else to experiment on while you’re looking for Virgil?”

“That wasn’t our choice,” Janus muttered. Roman tilted his head.

“Really? ‘Cuz it sounded an awful lot like Virgil said he never wanted to see your faces again. And, huh, isn’t it weird that Virgil told me you _stood by and did nothing_ while they were wiping his memory? Or, is that something best friends do here? You never know anym—”

Roman was interrupted with a swift punch in the jaw, sending his vision spinning. He blinked twice and spat bright red blood at Janus’s feet.

“How much did Virgil tell you about our COTECH operations?” Janus said, flexing his fingers, calming his demeanor despite the blood splatter.

“Hm. All of a sudden, I’m not compelled to tell you that,” Roman shot back, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Janus was seething. “I swear I will make your life a living hell if you don’t give me the information I want.”

“You seem to be good at that,” Roman said, his jaw throbbing. “I’m not scared of you, Janus. Nor of you,” his gaze drifted to Remus, who was standing back. He squinted suddenly, taking a second look at Remus’s expression.

“You should be,” Janus scowled. He let another punch fly, lightning-fast, into Roman’s ribcage, causing him to gasp for air and double over.

“Now tell me: where is Virgil right now?”

Roman took a couple of short breaths, trying to let air into his lungs. Janus reached out and lifted Roman’s chin with one hand, his touch feather-light. He examined the RIIS agent’s face in detail for a couple of seconds as Roman panted.

“Hm. I see why Virgil likes you,” Janus purred, his words sharp. “You just don’t know when to give up.” He pressed his fingers into the already bruising past of Roman’s jaw, causing the agent to flinch. “I’ll make you talk. I’ll make you forget the life you had outside these walls. _I will make you beg for death_.”

“Is that what you tell your boyfriend too?” Roman muttered, nodding to Remus. Janus dropped Roman’s chin. He balled his hands into fists, holding them there until the knuckles went white. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, not bothering to wait for Remus to follow.

After a couple of beats of silence, Remus spoke up. “You shouldn’t talk like that if you want to make it out of here alive.”

“I’ll talk however I need to to keep Virgil away from you,” Roman said.

Remus’s eye twitched. “How is he?”

“Like hell I’m going to tell you,” Roman spat. “I’m not going to make the same mistake I made two years ago.”

“Killing your boyfriend?” Remus said.

“If I tell you where he is then that’s what I’ll be doing.”

“So he’s your boyfriend?” Roman raised a brow.

“Why the hell do you want to know?”

“I was once his friend, you know.”

“Murdering bastard. Get the hell away from me,” Roman spat, his glare sizzling as Remus slowly approached.

“I can help you. Trust me.”

“‘Trust me’ says the spy who has tortured almost everyone who is close to me. Bullshit. I don’t need your help.”

Remus studied the man in front of him, feeling as though he was being dissected by Roman’s fiery gaze. After a moment, he turned around, reaching up to the corner of the room where a small camera hung. He pushed it up to face the ceiling with the tips of his fingers. Roman’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened his back against the metal chair as Remus strode forward. The sudden realization crossed his mind that he might not make it out of this alive, causing his chest to tighten.

Remus kneeled down next to the chair and dug into his pocket, producing a crumpled sheet of paper. He flattened it quickly and placed it onto Roman’s lap.

Roman frowned at the blurry photo of a black-clad figure swinging across a building.

“Virgil,” Remus confirmed. He pulled three other slips of paper out of his pockets and laid them across Roman’s lap, allowing the latter to study them. “They’re all Virgil.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Roman said, a suspicious edge to his voice.

“Because someone in COTECH has been following him. Observing. They monitored his progress after losing his memories. And then I realized something else,” Remus said, lowering his voice. “I’m sure he’s told you by now that RIIS took his family away—”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You shouldn’t. Because it’s wrong. I skimmed Virgil’s file, and that move was orchestrated by COTECH agents. COTECH has been keeping them, using them as leverage for Virgil to continue operations. Even then, they only moved his family—our families, I believe—to another housing area. And Virgil has no idea. If this is true for all of the agents they recruited this way…there’s something wrong here.”

Roman raised a brow. “Are you…changing allegiances?” He said slowly, thinking back on all the battles they had had in the past. _Is that even possible?_

Remus stared back for a second before he responded. “I am doing what I think is right. Even if Janus disagrees.”

“He knows?”

“No. Not yet. I was about to tell him before they brought you here.”

“So what exactly are you planning?”

“I don’t know yet,” Remus said, grabbing the photographs and crumbling them in his pockets once more. “But as much as I hate to admit it, I need help. And seeing as Virgil trusts you, I suppose it’s the least I can do to employ the assistance of a skeptic.”

“What would you have done if they had brought back Virgil instead of me?” Roman said suddenly, his gaze filled with intent. Remus paused, not speaking again for a couple of moments. A quick read of Roman’s face confirmed that this was his test—a test for trusting Remus.

One that he would gladly partake in if it meant saving a friend.

“I would not have had the chance to do anything. They would have taken him down and started up the superspy project once more. Their next step was going to be erasing you.” Roman twitched almost imperceptibly. “After all…” Remus muttered. “Virgil was the only person who’s survived them. I’m sure they’d want to know why.”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “And you didn’t have a problem with this at all before Virgil ran away?”

“Virgil i—was family to me. So, I always had a problem with it. But being there by his side was the safest way to protect him without insubordination. Before I started connecting the dots,” He paused, shooting another glance at Roman. “We fear our director for a reason, Roman.”

Suddenly the metal door behind Remus burst open and several guards rushed forward. Roman watched, confused, as they surged towards Remus. It seemed for a moment amongst the thrashing that they were trying to tear him apart, and Roman began to struggle against his restraints. Less than a minute of the struggle, and the guards seemed to relax. They stepped back and Roman saw a subdued Remus as he was dragged by his arms out of the interrogation room.

“Inform the director,” One of the agents said on their way out, adjusting the tie on her shirt, “We’ve found our next superspy test subject.”

The door slammed shut, plunging Roman into near darkness.

——

_10:13 p.m._

Janus strode down the hallway, his temper flaring even as he got further away from the holding room. His hands were balled into fists, and his nails were starting to leave indents on his skin. The few agents crossing through the halls moved to the walls as he passed by, and he couldn’t think to care if it was his scars or the anger in his face.

_That pretentious asshole—who does he think he is? Taunting me like that. Wiping his stupid victory all over my face and then insinuating that Remus and I—_

He cut off that thought where it stood.

_Why the hell am I letting_ that _comment get under my skin?_ He glared at the door to his room as he reached it. _He was just guessing, what does he even know?_ The door slammed behind him, and he yanked off his yellow-lined coat, leaving him in a white button down and black pants.

He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and collapsed backwards onto the small cot in the corner of his room, letting his head fall into his hands.

_I lost my cool. I just—I did everything you shouldn't do. Damn, it, why am I letting him get to me?_

_‘It sounded an awful lot like Virgil said he never wanted to see your faces again.’_

_‘You stood by and did nothing while they were wiping his memory.’_

_He saw everything horrible about me and brought it to the surface. I may have punched him…but he knows exactly where to hit to make it really hurt. I never wanted to hurt Virgil! I just wanted to protect him from a worse fate! He hates me now and there’s nothing I can do to clear my name._

Janus’s head shot up suddenly. _But…that might not be true. If I—_ he turned on his bed and shifted to the secret spot in the wall that he had cut open.

‘ _Is that what you tell your boyfriend too?_ ’ His hand stilled as the last painful quote came into the foreground of his mind. Suddenly it seemed as though he couldn’t shake it from playing on repeat.

“Get out of my head,” he muttered to himself, his mind flashing to the look on Remus’s face after Roman made his pointed comment.

A glance to the side to his feet. A small haze of color on his cheeks, but his eyes only looked broken underneath the mask of impassivity. Remus had never been that quiet. Some sort of huff, a cackle perhaps, _anything_ but silence would have told Janus that he was perfectly okay. That the comment hadn’t hit at his core as well.

But they both knew that wasn’t true.

_Why did he have to fall for_ me _, of all people? And why did I have to f—_

He paused.

_What…what was I thinking? No, no. I don’t see him as anything more than an associate. A fellow agent, maybe. I don’t like him—_

As if his hand had a mind of its own, it moved away from the spot on the wall and to Janus’s cheek, which was almost burning compared to the coolness of his fingers. His eyes widened.

_No. No, there’s no way I actually have a crush on—_

He stumbled back and tore a hand through his hair, wondering when it had started to feel like he couldn’t breathe.

_I have a crush on Remus._

_FUCK._

Janus’s head was spinning. Never had a realization like this hit so hard.

_Of course, though. Of course it hits me like he just threw a brick at my face._ He scoffed at the irony. 

The flirting and innuendos Remus tossed his way had been one thing.

The realization that he wasn’t alone in being an outcast…that was quite another. He had complemented his scars and _meant it_.

_Oh, this is it. I’m done for_ , he thought to himself, trying to slow his breathing. _I’m never going to be able to look that man in the face again._

Reeling from the discovery, Janus willed himself to move forward, back towards his hidden spot in the wall.

_If I am going to panic in my room like this, I might as well do something productive. Remus had a theory. Let’s see if it’s supported._

He loosened the grey wallpaper from its place, lifting it gently up until he reached the wooden block that covered the entrance to the storage space. With delicate fingers, he lifted out the block and set it next to him. He drew out the file packet and replaced the block, pushing the wallpaper back into place until he was sure there were no signs of disturbance. Then, he turned around and picked up the file, opening it and skimming through. He grabbed a notebook from his desk and began writing down some important details in a shorthand cipher he had developed. _Technically_ agents were supposed to share their ciphers and shorthands with the agency for recording purposes and potential use in the field, but in this case, Janus saw an exception being made.

_13 total subjects. 12 fatalities in trials. Victims were agents: needed trained spies. Farthest testing was penetration and alteration of amygdala in one subject—subject died soon after. Most only made it through 1st round of memory wipes and died during 2nd. Altered the length of the testing which improved survival time. 1 current survivor active._

Janus’s fingers went cold on the notepad. _What is that, a seven percent survival rate?_

_What did I let them do to Virgil?_

He swallowed and put his pen back to the paper, reading on.

_Records of association with COTECH wiped before body disposal. Carried out through third party business partner. Agent profile records here._

_Agents have little in common, variations in age, gender, marital status, skill sets. All had spotless records._

_Wait. All of them were…all of them were suspected of subordination or conspiracy soon before their trials. How did they know about Virgil’s—_

Janus flipped through the files again, landing on Virgil’s subject file, searching for what they had found on him.

_Potential romantic interest in a non-cooperative agency. Tracked after return from identity reveal mission and found positive match (see P.I. file — > VIRGIL MORRIS)._

Janus stiffened. _P.I. file. Private investigator. Those pictures Remus found—those were the evidence that spurred the trials and—Oh, no._

_No, no no this is not good._

_If they were able to find out about Virgil’s insubordination so easily…_ Janus’s thoughts drifted to Remus. He shot up from his seat on the bed, rushing to tuck away the files where he had hidden them. After he had finished he tore out the page of cipher-written notes and shoved it into his pocket, not bothering to put on his coat or freshen up before he ran out of the room.

_I need to tell Remus he’s in danger. I need to—_

“Agent Janus?” He froze in his tracks, turning around to see who had spoken to him. A short agent, probably in her second or third year of training. Not as young as the new ones but not quite as experienced as Janus. She wore a plain black button up with a gold tie in the front, and her wavy hair just touched her shoulders. There was some look, some emotion in here eyes that Janus couldn’t quite place, but it was almost unsettling.

“You are?”

“Agent Genesis Davids. Sir, the Director has summoned you to his office.”

“When?” Janus said, keeping his composure best he could.

“Now. I have been asked to escort you.”

_There is something very, very wrong here._ “Lead the way, then.”

He took the short walk up to the director’s office to compose himself, straightening out his hair and re-buttoning his tunic so he would at least have some merit of authority. By the time they reached the door, Janus’s breathing was completely regulated and his features had returned to their usual cool, collected status.

“Go inside. The Director is waiting for you there. He instructed me that you should not knock.” Janus nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, he opened the door.

Inside was a spacious office room. The walls on either side of him were lined with bookshelves, and in front of Janus was a wide mahogany desk. The wall behind the Director was primarily window paneling, impossibly bright for the time of day. It obscured the face of the Director in shadow, so Janus could really only see his outline.

The door shut behind him and Janus had to keep himself from jumping, instead willing himself to step a couple more feet into the room.

“Sir, you summoned me?” He said carefully, keeping his distance from the desk. He folded his hands together pristinely in front of them, in part to keep them from shaking.

“Agent Janus. We have several things I have been meaning to discuss.” The Director’s voice was impossibly calm, with a strange undertone Janus could only describe as sinister. Or, skeptical. “Let’s start from the beginning. As you know, you and your partner were removed from the most recent extraction mission involving your former partner, agent Virgil Morris.”

In the pause that followed, Janus nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“This was because of your emotional involvement with the agent. However…I now see that this was a great mistake. Removing you and Remus from the mission left me with only inexperienced, and, frankly, incompetent agents. So, I have been reviewing your past field work over the years and, in light of the many successful missions you have run, I have decided to give you a promotion.” Janus froze. “Your work is valuable here. As a first part of your promotion, I want you to head all operations that are responsible for tracking and obtaining our rogue agent, Virgil. I know you are experienced in the field work involved and this may require you to train the newer agents that you are assigned.”

Janus gulped, a thousand thoughts and ideas swirling through him. Two months ago, he would have been ecstatic. Now, however, his stomach was plummeting.

“In front of me I have all the case files you will need to get started. These contain a list of potential agents for a tracking corps, if that is required. They will need to be reviewed and a team assembled tonight, as we are on a time constraint. Next you have a budgeting folder here, including a full list of resources and related materials. I also have this badge, which will permit you to enter higher-clearance areas when necessary.” Janus stepped forward and took the personnel file, skimming through it until his eyes landed on one name in particular.

“Sir, Remus is on this list. Is he also being given extended clearance, as he was my partner in the past on many of my missions?”

“Remus will not be gaining clearance. He…volunteered for one of our newer spy development programs, one you were involved with recently. As he is currently in the process of finishing his first phase in the program, I did not believe him to be ready for the added pressure of a promotion,” The Director said with an added edge to his voice.

Janus nodded, his throat too tight to say anything. He continued to glance through the files, gripping on to the corners to steady his hand. _It’s too late—they already got him. They’ve probably already started wiping his memory._ “Thank you, sir. I will get working on this right away. If I finish compiling a list, I will get started on the training.”

“Wonderful,” he said. Janus began to turn towards the door, but the Director stopped him with his voice. “Oh, and agent Janus. If your job is not accomplished in full, I might recommend you direct your efforts to one of our…laboratory programs. Perhaps the one Remus has joined,” The Director said pointedly. Janus could feel the threat in his voice. He quickly nodded, murmuring a thank you before he collected the files from the Director’s desk and made his way out.

_If I don’t do this…I will become the next test subject._ He closed the door and shivered in the now-empty hallway.

_There’s no way we’re all making it out of this alive._

——

_10:59 p.m._

Janus spread the personnel files across the floor of his room, his heart hammering in his chest.

_Remus is in danger. Remus is in danger._

He pushed the hair our of his eyes, scanning each of the files. He plucked Remus’s out of the bunch, setting it to the side.

_Memory or not…I need him._

The rest of the files blurred in his mind, and he began to find it hard to distinguish between each of the agents he had at his disposal.

_I’m trapped. I’m literally trapped. I can’t save Remus, I can’t protect Virgil from getting found, I can’t run away—what can I do? I need help. I can’t do this on my own._

_Wait._ Janus frowned.

_I have help._

Suddenly he lurched forward over the files, snatching up a couple of the names that matched what he needed. Some of the younger crowd, agents fresh from academy. A plan began to formulate in his head as he wrote a list of the names for his team.

_8 members, including me and Remus. 6 newbies. Remus indisposed_. _Okay. You can do this, Janus. You can do this._

He wrote a short statement underneath his list explaining his reasoning to the Director: Remus was a helpful assistant and could teach the younger agents valuable tricks within two hour’s time. He needed fresh agents who didn’t have as much bias towards a certain method of tracking, since they need to be in the same mindset for the mission.

Janus outlined a brief plan of attack on the paper for the Director to see—the next morning, the agents would be assembled within the hour (before seven a.m.), given a quick briefing, then taught how they should organize their search mission. They would spend an hour or so planning where to look for Virgil by excavating his history and past relationships. Then, they would be given guidelines on the methodology for a night raid. Afterwards Remus could teach them all they needed to know about the final attack and extraction of their target. The raid would be commenced and Virgil would be back before the following morning.

_An ambitious plan_ , Janus thought, the corner of his mouth twitching. _But it’ll work for what I need._

He sent it up as quickly as he could to the Director, checking the time as he did so. _All arranged within a half an hour._

_And tomorrow…tomorrow I will set things straight._

Janus’s own plan was already falling into place in his head, and he smirked to himself.

Suddenly there was a hammering knock on his door, and he frowned. _The Director?_ He stood up quickly and crossed to the door, frowning when he opened it.

“Remus?”

He was alone, no agents escorting him. Janus blinked and opened the door, tugging the disheveled man inside without saying another word. He took a quick visual sweep of the hallways around the door before stepping back inside and closing the door. He whirled around and leaned back on the door. He quickly turned around and took in Remus’s appearance:

“I need to talk with you,” they said simultaneously. Janus finally met Remus’s eyes, and he saw something was off.

“You first,” Janus said, breaking eye contact with a nervous glance towards the wall beside his bed.

“There’s something missing, Janus,” he breathed, pointing at this forehead. “I think—I think they did what they did to Virgil…with me. But I have no idea what that means or why they did it.”

“What’s missing?”

Remus frowned. “You walked out of the interrogation room, then I stepped forward to talk to Roman and the memory just… _stopped_. There’s just nothingness when I try to remember it. And, uh…I have these random photos in my pockets?” He dug out the crumpled balls of paper from his pockets. “I—I think they’re pictures of Virgil. But I have no idea why I have them. Where is he, by the way? I knocked on his barracks a couple of minutes ago but he wasn’t there.”

Janus stiffened, his eyes going wide. “You—you don’t know?”

“Should I?”  
  
“Remus, he defected over a month ago.”

The reaction Janus received from Remus was not one he had foreseen in the slightest. The man in front of him clenched his fists, his face darkening. “He _what_?”

“He—he defected. Remus, are you oka—”

“Whose fault is that? Who let him go?” He snapped suddenly. “He was fine just a little while ago.”

“Remus—” Janus said, before stopping himself. _Maybe I need to play this off a different way. See how much they took from him._ “Virgil ran away on his own. He was on a mission and he didn’t come back.”

The man’s features seemed to relax, but there was a glint of anger directed elsewhere. “Bastard. Of course he’d turn out to be a two-faced traitor. Not brave enough to see that the superspy programs are good for him.” _The superspy programs are…good? Wait, that makes no sense. That would mean they erased all of the memories of Virgil’s pain._

_But how could he change his opinion so drastically? He came in here scared of what they had done. What happened?  
_

_Wait. Did they…place false memories in him?_

Janus gulped, but Remus took no notice. “Remus, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?”

Janus’s mind worked fast, crafting something for him to work at. “The Director gave me a promotion. He asked me to assemble a team to find Virgil and bring him back. I have assigned you as my second in command.” _My second in command that I can no longer trust, apparently._ “I trust that is alright with you?”

Remus grinned, the corner of his lip twisting upward. It was much more unsettling than Janus was used to, as if he were a predator sizing up his prey.

“Of course. Congratulations, Janus,” he purred, sending a chill up Janus’s spine. He quickly straightened himself and put on an air of authority.

“Thank you. Now I recommend you get some rest before tomorrow’s mission. It is late enough already, and I want my agents on the top of their game for the extraction.”

“Yes _sir_ ,” Remus muttered, the grin only growing on his face as he sauntered past Janus to the door. He paused to lean into Janus’s ear, lips just brushing against it as he whispered, “keep up the authority thing. It’s a good look on you.”

Janus flushed, and he had to remind himself to control his heart rate as Remus closed the door behind him. As soon as the sound of footsteps dissipated, Janus locked the door and launched himself towards his bed, peeling up the wallpaper digging out the superspy files.

_What the hell did they do to him?_ He frowned as he leafed through the pages. _He almost seemed normal until I brought up Virgil defecting. And why would he react like that? When he saw it in person he was sad, but he wasn’t violently angry._

_Unless…unless they planted false memories somehow. How would they even—_

Janus’s finger landed on a small subsection of text in the report, and his breath caught in his throat.

‘ _Falsely imposed memories can be implanted on a subject using a specialized laser tool, but requires intense precision, as the areas being rewritten are microscopic and usually hard to reach. If not done properly, the subject may retain the original memory and also receive the new ones, leaving them with an intense cognitive dissonance that can result in violent tendencies (see subject VIII) and death (see subjects VIII and IX). Properly executed plantings have been largely successful in subjects, although administering another memory trial after imposing the memories has resulted in death of the subjects in three of four attempts. The memories usually require a trigger to activate, and must be done within 24 hours to remain permanent. This method should be reserved for subjects which have displayed significant attempts at subordination, as it is a more dangerous procedure._ ’

He swore under his breath. _What the hell could Remus have done?_ At the sound of footsteps approaching he shoved the files back into the wall, covered it, and straightened the wallpaper. Though the footsteps passed and faded, Janus’s heart couldn’t stop pounding in his chest.

_I need to get some rest. But tomorrow…tomorrow I swear I’m going to find out what they did to him. Even if it means—_ He bit his lip.

_Whatever it takes. I’ll do whatever it takes._

——

Logan awoke slowly the next morning, for once deciding to savor each second of it. He took in the sleeping figure of Patton next to him, his expression content and peaceful as he slept. A small smile appeared at the corner of Logan’s mouth as he studied the freckles covering Patton’s cheeks—they were almost invisible from a distance, but here? There seemed to be millions of them, like a galaxy spreading across his face. After a minute or so, Logan reached out and gently ran a hand through Patton’s hair, marveling at how soft it was. Patton’s eyes fluttered and finally opened, and he grinned.

“G’morning, Logan,” he murmured, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan responded softly as Patton leaned closer to him. “Your hair is exceptionally soft, did you know that? It is a scientific anomaly,” he said, earning him a giggle.

“I have to keep you confused somehow, otherwise you’d know everything, and where’s the fun in that?”

Logan smiled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Patton’s forehead. “I am so lucky to have you, Patton.”

“I love you too,” Patton grinned. Logan turned his head to take in the entire scene again; snapping a mental picture that he could carry with him. After a second, he blinked and pushed himself up.

“I suppose I should get ready. We have a big day ahead of us,” Logan said finally.

“Mmm…five more minutes?” Patton tugged at the sleeve of Logan’s nightshirt. Logan flushed as he looked back Patton’s sleepy grin.

“I…” Logan chuckled. “After all this, I promise I will.”

“Alriiiight,” Patton said dramatically, rolling onto his back.

Logan lingered for another moment before getting up and walking into the closet. He got dressed quickly, finding Patton still in bed when he came out again.

“I’ll make coffee,” he said, planting another kiss on Patton’s forehead. Patton reached up from the bed and adjusted Logan’s tie.

“Okay,” he whispered, tapping Logan’s nose. He grinned when he saw Logan’s little smile emerge on the corners of his lips again, before the man retreated to the kitchen.

Logan sighed as he closed the door behind him, trying to calm down the red flush that was still heating up his face. He took a few steps forward before his eyes caught on the sight of Patton’s living room. A blanket was folded neatly on the edge of the couch where Virgil had been sleeping, no sign of the man himself. Logan quickened his pace. _If he left on his own, he will only get himself killed. Damn it, did he seriously think—_

Logan stopped short when he got to the kitchen. Laid out on the counter was a line of polished throwing knives. He raised a brow, and his attention was suddenly brought a couple feet above the counter. He looked up at Virgil, who was sharpening yet another knife on top of Patton’s fridge. If the man had noticed Logan, he gave no acknowledgement, his eyes focused on the blade in front of him. Logan noted what he thought were shadows under Virgil’s eyes, until he realized after a moment that it was a deep black eyeshadow.

“Good morning, Virgil,” Logan said after a minute.

Virgil’s eyes flicked away from his work to Logan, then back. “Morning.”

“How did—how did you get up there?” Logan said when no further explanation came. 

“Trust me,” Virgil said, rolling his blade through the sharpener one last time. “You don’t want to know.”

Logan raised a brow. “I’m making coffee. Do you want any?”

“Sure.”

Virgil dug into his jacket and produced yet another knife— _How is that even possible? Considering the dimensions of the jacket itself there should be no way he can store all of those blades in there??_ —as Logan started the coffeepot.

“Logan,” Virgil said suddenly after a couple of beats of silence.

“Yes?”

“What is your specialty? Skill set wise.” Logan turned away from the coffeepot and leaned on the counter, folding his arms in front of him.

“I thought as a spy you might already have an idea,” he ventured.

Virgil’s eyes, silver-brown from the reflection of the blade, turned away from his work and studied Logan for a second. After a second he tilted his head up. “Interrogation. But…no weapon specialty?”

“You are correct. RIIS does not train weapon specialties at the academy, they try to make us proficient in a variety of weapons. And occasionally in using random objects as weapons.”

“Interesting. Then Roman just favors a handgun, I guess.”

“He does. RIIS does not usually encourage favoring one weapon, but for his purposes I think it is more useful. May I ask how it is different at COTECH?”

Virgil’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly. “Yeah. You get a year of general weapons training and then you pick a specialty.”

“You chose knife blades,” Logan said, watching Virgil twirl the knife hilt in his hands.

“Yes. And the fighting techniques associated.”

“So…they focused on weaponry over spying techniques?”

Virgil huffed. “Nah. Plenty of spy techniques. My final assignment at the end of my first year was raiding their own archives. I think the difference between our agencies is that COTECH wanted to maximize…eliminating the enemy. More violent tactics to take down large scale ops. Very effective and very quick if they do it right. RIIS’s focus is…more subtle.”

“I suppose I can see that. RIIS also doesn’t require such violent and spontaneous movements, seeing as we are not an underground agency,” Logan said, turning around to turn off the coffeepot. He reached up and grabbed three cups out of the cabinet before turning to face Virgil once more.

Virgil, who was now standing mere feet away from him.

“How did you—”

“Tell me the truth. Will Roman be able to survive until we get to him?” Virgil said, his eyes impossibly cold and calm.

Logan blinked. “Yes, I believe so, Virgil. He is highly capable.”

Virgil stepped back, and Logan relaxed his shoulders. “How many people have you killed, Logan?”

“I believe the exact number is twenty-five.”

Virgil’s face darkened. “231.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s how many people I have killed. 231.” Logan froze, studying the man in front of him. “See, the thing is, I had no idea. Because COTECH experimented on me, made me forget them. They have a machine in their basement, and they took me against my consent on three occasions, strapped me to the machine, and messed with my head. Took away memories, added some. They made me forget about Patton. Then, during the experiments, they decided to surface those memories. Made me relive every death I caused. They were trying to condition me to kill without caring. I watched 165 people die all over again at my hand before they had to pull me out of there. They tortured me in a way that goes unmatched in physical torture. I see those people’s faces every day, now. It would be easy for them to do that to him. Can he withstand that?”

Logan frowned, taking a second look at Virgil. He found the near-invisible tics of someone recovering from trauma, the COTECH-aimed hatred just barely contained by a balled fist, the worry channeled to a tapping finger against his thigh…Virgil hid it well enough to pass by an initial inspection. But he couldn’t hide his feelings for Roman. That’s where he slipped.

“I’m sorry, Virgil. That type of trauma is inexcusable, and I see now why you escaped. I truly do believe, though, that Roman is strong enough to get past this. He’s pretty well known around RIIS for taking a beating and recovering quickly.” Logan set the coffee cups on the counter and picked up the coffeepot. “Might I recommend that you focus on yourself in the present for a moment, and save the nervous energy for when you will need it?”

“That’s never worked for me. Especially not…not when the stakes are so high.”

“You have to trust in him, Virgil. He is incredibly strong. I should know, I trained with him at the academy. He has beat me in several sparring matches. How would you like your coffee?”

“Black.” Suddenly Virgil’s eyes lit up. “Sparring…Logan. Before we go to the facility I need to spar with you.”

“Why?” Logan asked, pouring a the third cup of coffee with no additives and handing it to Virgil.

“I can learn your strengths and weaknesses. Compare them to Remus’s and Janus’s.”

“Who is Janus?”

Virgil blinked. “Oh. Right. You know Janus as Deceit,” he said. “But I think it would be a good idea to show you your weaknesses. And theirs. Same with Patton.”

“What?” As if on cue, Patton shuffled into the kitchen. Logan could tell that he had dozed off again after he left. Despite his appreciation for punctuality, he found it endearing.

“Sparring. I want to spar with each of you.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I drink my coffee first?” He yawned. Logan let out a small laugh, handing Patton one of the cups.

“Sure, Pat. I want to spar with Logan first, anyways.” Logan wasn’t a fan of the way Virgil seemed to be studying his target. _Though, on second thought, that’s what I do all the time._

“Alright. I am eager to learn these COTECH agent’s weaknesses.”

“Good,” Virgil said, taking a sip of his coffee. Logan waited for him to cringe at the bitterness, but Virgil had no reaction whatsoever. “Then let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! <3


	22. Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan, Patton, and Virgil prep for the missions. Janus sets his plan into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! First off, I'd like to apologize for the delay in updating (I know I shouldn't make a habit of that, but all of you have been so patient with me and I really appreciate it). There have been a lot of things going on for me personally as well as participating in the protests. On top of that, I had to split this chapter into two parts because I realized what a monster of a chapter it would be if I posted all 18k words of it as a single chapter. On the upside, that means I should be updating again soon! Yaaay! 
> 
> Thank you again for your patience, and for reading and supporting this story!
> 
> WARNINGS: Blood, bruise mentions (minor)

The empty lot out behind Patton’s home was decidedly the most suitable—and the least visible—option to host sparring matches. The place was fenced off with tall stone walls and seemingly forgotten about: the grasses growing back there almost reached Virgil’s knees, and occasionally he would step over old chunks of concrete from old building operations. The neighboring houses were single-story, with no windows tall enough to get a view of the lot. Patton, still clutching his coffee mug, had led them to the plot through a creaky wrought-iron fence that stood in the alleyway behind his building. 

Virgil stripped off his black coat at one corner of the lot, tossing it to the side. Underneath he wore the same shirt from yesterday, the purple top stained with red from blood and wine and ripped from the glass shards. Logan noticed he had wrapped new, clean bandages over the glass cuts, bandages which stretched from his palms up to his elbows.

“Logan. Your weapon of choice?” He said, flipping his own knife in his hand. The blade was black this time and Logan soon realized it was sheathed.

“Hand to hand combat. Seems most applicable.”

“You and Remus would be the same then. That’s his specialty,” Virgil noted. “Alright. I'll start with Janus’s technique. Although he chose a sword as his specialty weapon—idiot choice, I might add—he usually goes with knife blades. Even then, he prefers to let Remus dirty his hands for him, so I’ve only sparred with him a couple of times. I’ll do my best to mimic his tactic. Janus isn’t as experienced with combat as Remus and I, but he has the advantage of agility. And predicting people’s next move before they do.” Vigil tapped the sheathed blade against his thigh. “Ready?”

“Let’s begin,” Logan said, placing his feet in a more balanced position. He eyed Virgil carefully, watching as his expression morphed into one of near-impossible calm. The resemblancebetween that expression and what Logan had seen of Janus was uncanny. 

He realized with a start that he'd be seeing a lot more of it if— _when—_ they made it into COTECH. 

Virgil made the first move, stepping forward lightly in a sporadic pattern. Logan slid to the side, careful to avoid a chunk of concrete by his foot. Virgil moved in fluid motions, quickly adjusting his position to attack Logan. He launched himself forward, and Logan kicked out a leg intended for Virgil’s chest. Virgil grabbed a hold of the leg, using it to throw off Logan’s balance. He rolled to the side and hopped back to his feet as Logan recovered. Virgil glanced at the wall before running forward, using his momentum to jump off the side of the wall and hit Logan from behind. The latter was prepared, though, as he swung around and grasped Virgil’s arms and used the man’s momentum to fling him into the grass; Virgil’s sheathed blade slid across Logan’s arm as he did so. Virgil rolled before extending a hand to plant himself.

“Janus down,” Logan stated simply. Virgil scoffed.

“He may be down,” Virgil said, pushing himself to his feet. “But you’re dead. My blade sliced the brachial artery in your left hand. Dominant hand, right?”

Logan nodded. “I see.”

“Janus is a master of that—making himself look weak in a fight while he studies you. So the best way to win is to keep him guessing. But…you did good. Just make sure the knife gets nowhere near you. Janus dislikes using his hands, he’ll only use a blade to kill you.”

"Lovely," Logan deadpanned.

“My turn!!” Patton called from across the open space, setting his empty coffee cup on the ground.

“What? Already?” Logan said, his brows furrowing in concern.

Patton laughed. “Y’know, Logan, you’re gonna have to get used to seeing me fighting eventually! Well…maybe not _that_ often,” He added.

“A-alright,” Logan said after a moment, stepping over to where Patton stood.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Virgil said. “Have a weapon of choice?”

“Well, I don’t really carry anything with me, so…hand to hand?” Patton shrugged.

“Cool,” Virgil tossed his sheathed knife to the side. “You’re going up against Remus’s technique. I’ll warn you right now that he’s sporadic—I can barely call it a technique,” Virgil said, more to himself than anyone else. He began stalking in a slow circle around Patton. “So you have to find another way to outsmart him. Or, well, out-brawn him. He takes a lot more hits than anyone I know before he falls. Are you ready for that?”

“Sure am, kiddo!” Patton grinned. Virgil raised a brow but neglected to comment.

Instead, he charged forward suddenly from his circle, using his shoulder to knock Patton out of place. Patton stumbled and twirled around, too late to prepare to block Virgil’s next hit. But he was quick to react to it: he hooked his arm around Virgil’s shoulder and used the momentum to launch himself up onto Virgil’s back. As the latter man tried to throw him off, Patton swiftly jabbed the corner of his neck with the side of his hand in a slicing motion.

“What the f—” Virgil lost his balance against his will, falling to the ground and barely managing a roll to the side as Patton leaped off. “Did you just stun me?”

“Yep!” Patton stood over him proudly. “Don’t worry. It should fade pretty quickly.”

Logan was simultaneously intimidated and a little turned on.

“Well, damn,” Virgil muttered, flexing his fingers out for a second before finally being able to push himself off the ground. “You need to teach me that one. Like the nonviolence vibe. Logan, what do you think?”

“Uh, y-yes, I do believe that skill would be quite adequate,” Logan stuttered, pushing up his glasses in a futile attempt to conceal his blush.

Virgil scoffed as he picked up his coat and brushed it off. “What he’s trying to say, Patton, is that you being an agent kinda turns him on.”

“Awe, Logan!” Patton flushed, causing Virgil to snort. Logan shot him an I-will-rescind-every-decent-thing-I’ve-said-about-you glare, to no avail.

“Okay, listen,” Logan said in an attempt to change the subject (and cool down the red flush that was steadily spreading to the tips of his ears). “We need to finish this up. The earlier we can strike the better. I have already compiled a list of supplies we’ll need in order to do this as effectively as possible, but I would like your input as well, in case I missed something. And we will need to stop by a RIIS outlet beforehand to gather several of the supplies.”

“Aight, L, let’s get a move on. But just so you know, I’m quizzing you both on Janus’s and Remus’s fighting techniques on the ride over,” Virgil said as he pulled the black coat over his shoulders, concealing the bandages that ran up his arms. He tucked the sheathed blade somewhere in the depths of a coat pocket. “And I need a new shirt.”

“Already on the list.”

“Aww, someone wants to look nice for their _boyfriend_!” Patton drawled, clasping his hands together and pretending to flutter his eyes. Now it was Logan’s turn to laugh.

“ _Patton!_ ”

* * *

Janus buttoned the last button on his coat, adding a black wide-brimmed hat to complete his look. It was early yet that morning; the small team he assembled would still be getting ready. His eyes flicked to a blank point on the wall by his bed before they returned to his work.

_I have a full day of training ahead._

_Or…_

_That’s what I will let the director think._

He neglected to add any prosthetic to his face, only combing and cleaning up his hair before he left for the briefing room. His stony features gave nothing away, concealed the raging feelings that were swirling like a tempest inside him. No one would get under his skin. That was what he kept telling himself as he stepped out into the hallway.

There was only one hitch in that plan, a question that had been knocking around in his head for the entire night and keeping him awake.

_What happens to Remus?_

_After all this, will he be…stuck?_

_I triggered a false memory. None of the operatives have ever tried to_ remove _one of those before._

_And now he could potentially be a ultra-loyal rage machine. Just like they wanted._

_He was trying to change. He was on to something, on to some little—_

_Oh. OH._ Janus stopped in his path, his eyes widening as he realized an oversight he had made. Suddenly he pulled out his phone, typing out a quick message to his recruits to delay the briefing by an hour.

_I know._

_I need to find out what happened after I left Remus in that interrogation room._

_They’ll have audio transcriptions available at my clearance level_ , he thought, sending the message. He did a quick turn in the hallway and practically ran back to his room, having to remind himself to stay calm and collected until he shut the door behind him. He quickly took out a laptop, logging on to the COTECH database.

TRANSCRIPTION FILES—> INTERROGATION ROOMS —> LAST 24 HOURS

Janus searched through until he found the video and attached audio transcription. He watched the video first, zooming into the corner of the screen to see what Remus was doing. The man had been fiddling with something papery in his pocket as Roman was being interrogated, but Janus couldn’t make out the details. His eye twitched when he saw himself storm out of the room.

After he had left, they talked for a moment, Remus seemingly following all the typical interrogation procedures. But it was pushing the camera into the ceiling that threw Janus off.

“What…? Remus, what are you doing?” Janus found nothing else on the video feed except some young agent moving down the camera again about an hour afterwards, pointing on Roman, alone, in an empty room. Janus quickly moved to the audio transcription.

As he read through, his heartbeat steadily began to increase. _The audio recordings got_ everything _. Damn it, Remus, why did you have to forget that the cameras have audio too—_

_Unless…unless he wanted this to be recorded._

_Oh._

Janus held a hand over his mouth.

It was a message.

It was insurance.

Because Remus knew he might not make it out to tell him.

_22:16—Virgil i—was family to me. So, I always had a problem with it. But being there by his side was the safest way to protect him without insubordination. Before I started connecting the dots. We fear our director for a reason, Roman._

_22:17— (audio interference)_

_22:19— Inform the director. We’ve found our next superspy test subject._

Janus’s eyes widened. _They took him right there. Right in front of Roman._ He clenched his fist and slammed the lid of his laptop closed.

_I need to get this operation started._

* * *

Virgil discovered that RIIS had several supply outlets dispersed around the city—all small buildings disguised as tea shops, electronics stores, and whatnot. Logan explained that the outlets were designated by a mathematic formula (one that Virgil forgot immediately after Logan said it) that accounted for common routes for agents to take, the underground passageways, and even common “red zones”, where, as Logan described, RIIS had monitored a high amount of threats to public safety (usually in the form of COTECH operations). Apparently that was why there was always a “flower shop” within a block of every laboratory in the city.

The supply outlet closest to COTECH was a tea shop roughly two blocks away. The trio was quickly ushered to a back room with an uncomfortably small elevator that they took to get to the outlet—though Virgil couldn’t qualify that portion of the trip to be much better.

The outlet itself was dimly lit, cramped with row upon row of supplies, from ammunition to prosthetics to…

Actually, Virgil didn’t want to ask why they had band-aids with Shrek’s face on them. That question could wait for another day.

It took them about fifteen minutes to get everything they needed for the mission—a small scale comms system, tranquilizers, the works—and carry it up via the elevator. The worker in the back room took one look at them and pointed to the employee entrance, letting them load their equipment before she made them sign for their visit.

“Okay, Can I get your names? I have to send them back to the agency for record keeping. I’m sure you know the drill.”

“Of course!” Patton said. “I’m Agent Patton Hart, this is Logan Fletcher, and he’s—” Patton faltered, his hand hovering in front of Virgil.

Virgil cleared his throat. “Janus Hendrix.”

The worker nodded, typing the names into her device. “Thanks. Good luck on your…mission?”

“Thank you!” Patton waved as they went out the back door once more.

“Janus Hendrix,” Logan repeated when they reached his car. “That wouldn’t happen to be Janus’s full name, would it?”

“It would,” Virgil said with a devilish grin. He pulled open the door to the back seat of Logan’s car and dropped himself onto the seat, marveling at the irony of the situation. He felt a sudden burst of confidence in the mission they were about to perform, despite the risks it entailed.

Maybe he would be able to face his fears now. Maybe, just maybe.

Once Logan had started the engine, he spoke up again.“Okay. Before we arrive, we’ll need to go over the plan. If we’re going to invade a high-risk facility with,” he inhaled, “ _three_ agents, then we need to act precisely. Luckily we have an expert on the layout of the facility, correct?”

“Right,” Virgil said carefully, producing a small sketched map—made some time past 3 am, when he realized his quest for sleep was probably fruitless—out of his pocket. He unfolded it in the car median so Patton could see. “You guys are going to take me in as if I’m your hostage and you’re trading me for a funds transfer. Logan, you made the arrangements with COTECH already, right?”

“I have.”

“Great,” Virgil said, his voice lacking enthusiasm for that particular part of the plan. “So as soon as I'm down the hallway, I'll break free of the escorts with that fake binding stuff. I'll meet you two further down the hallway. You have your plan to get past the guards?"

"Already taken care of!" Patton replied.

Virgil nodded. "Okay, so, he’s most likely in one of two places: the interrogation rooms, or the basement,” He said, pausing to lick his lower lip before he continued, “Hope for the former. The basement is where I…where they—experiment on people.”

Logan and Patton shared a glance.

“There are two access routes to the basement: An elevator here,” he gestured to a small square space drawn in to the map, “And here. Main doors are on the first floor. I believe the main doors are our best bet in this situation, since they could easily take us by surprise in the elevators. But we should try to take at least the first two floors of the building before we start investigating. The second floor is where they keep the interrogation rooms and holding cells, hopefully he’ll be there. Again, same two options to get to the second floor, then we’re down this hall,” Virgil traced a wide corridor on the map, “and they’re going to be on the left and right sides on this outlet. Ten doors total we’ll have to check.”

He silently wished his hand would stop trembling as he held the map--the corner was already crumpled from trying to keep it still and he wasn't at all a fan of the concerned glance Patton sent his way. 

“Good. After we take the first two floors, and hopefully join up with Roman, we will radio in to RIIS. I’m sure they will not be happy to hear from us, given that this mission is unauthorized and therefore we _technically_ just stole weapons from the facility, but they should still provide us with backup.Hopefully. I mean, they would never agree to a mission like this if we asked them beforehand, but agents already in danger constitutes at least an extraction plan,” Logan added, not hiding the _there-are-so-many-things-that-could-go-wrong_ tone in his voice.

“I am not liking these odds,” Virgil murmured to himself.

“And if we don’t get an extraction team, or any backup?” Patton prompted in an attempt to keep Virgil distracted.

“Then we enact our own extraction plan. Protocol 42,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses in a single quick swipe.

Virgil frowned. “And…you sure Roman’ll know what that is?”

“He better. He _is_ the one that made it up.”

* * *

The interrogation room door creaked open, bathing Roman in a thin strip of golden light. His slumped figure gradually started to shift as Janus and six other agents filed into the room, lingering against the front wall.

“Oh, dear. Did they seriously leave you here all night?” Janus said he with a click of his tongue. “Let’s shed some light on this little…situation.” He flicked on the overhead lights and closed the door behind them. Roman slowly tipped his head up, squinting in the light. “Hmm. Looks like our guest didn’t quite get the beauty sleep he was looking for.”

The left side of Roman’s jaw was almost entirely swallowed by a dark red-purple bruise, and the bags under his eyes seemed to match in color. His arms streaked with dried blood from wounds that had only partially healed; Janus still noticed a couple of glass shards sticking out of some of the bigger cuts. His shoulders were sagging, nothing like the attentive way he had held himself just last night. Janus realized he probably had not had water or food in all that time…and it hardly looked like he had gotten sleep, either.

In short, Roman was a mess. But Janus put on a condescending smile nonetheless.

“Alright, recruits, listen closely. The first lesson we need to cover before the mission is interrogation. And, as you can see, the perfect subject has fallen right into our hands. If we want to capture a target like _Agent Morris_ , we need to get into the minds of the people closest to him.” Roman perked up when he heard Virgil’s name, his lips curving into scowl. “There are a couple of important things to note with such a subject.”

Janus strolled forward to Roman’s chair, glancing down at him as he spoke. “Firstly, he's a RIIS agent. So he is trained to resist interrogations like this. But, after many hours without water and food—and sleep, given the deplorable state of his eyes—he may just be more willing to listen to our…questions. However. There are a couple of things we must be aware of before we start the interrogation. What would those be? Hands, please.”

Two agents raised their hands, and Janus scoffed. He nodded at the tall woman—Agent Morgan—leaning against the corner wall of the room.

“Sir, should we be discussing all this in front of him?”

Janus let out a laugh. “Oh, this one? He already knows the ins and outs of interrogation techniques. Trust me, even telling him the tactics I will teach you in advance will not protect him from how they break a person. Next.” He nodded to a scrawny young man, who looked like he had rolled out of bed and walked straight over to the briefing.

“Uh, we should consider who’s listening, and recording?”

“Precisely,” Janus said, his eye glistening. In a single motion, he drew a knife from his coat and flicked it out of his hand, cleanly severing the cable of the security camera in the corner of the room. “We can’t tamper a reputation if there are no records of it, can we?” He scanned over his agents, noticing a couple of them shift uncomfortably. Another one reluctantly raised their hand, and Janus nodded.

“Their relationship to the person we’re after? And maybe how much they might know?”

“Yes. And in the same vein,” Janus said, turning towards Roman once more, “Their _value_ as a target. How weak he is, how many other people could give us such information, et cetera.”

Roman glared back silently, and Janus watched his chest as it rose and fell much faster than before.

_Oh, he’s pissed all right._ He strode forward, tugging his knife from its place in the ceiling.

“Let’s get started, then.”

* * *

Virgil fiddled absentmindedly with a knife in the backseat of Logan’s car, his mind darting between a million different ideas and scenarios for their impending mission. Hovering at the forefront of all those ideas was Roman. What would he look like if— _no, WHEN_ , Virgil told himself—they found him? Would he be bruised or bleeding? Would he be _brainwashed_? Knowing COTECH, anything could hap—

He sighed to himself, severing the rest of that thought off.

“ ** _This isn’t the greatest plan to get you psyched up for a mission_** _,” an all-too-familiar voice told him, and Virgil didn’t have to turn to know that Other Virgil was sitting next to him in the dreamscape. The flat grey expanse that now spread out before them was still riddled with floating shards of memory—little bits of glass that drifted by and sometimes flashed light into his eyes._

_“Yeah, well…it’s Roman we’re talking about here. I don’t want to see him h—” Virgil cut himself off, shaking his head. “I—I don’t know if I’m ready for this, honestly. But I don’t have a choice, do I?”_

_Other Virgil pursed his lips together, and Virgil watched out of the corner of his eye as he slumped back into that weird purple-and-black patchwork hoodie he always seemed to be wearing. “_ **_Honestly…_ ** _” he hesitated. “_ **_No. Like you said, it’s_ Roman _. We both know how much he—how much he means to you. But, you should know that with your trauma being the way it is…_** _”_

_“It’s gonna have shitty repercussions. I get it,” Virgil muttered, steeling himself. A glass shard floated past his face, and he faintly recognized a memory of body #109. Bullet wound to the chest. Another shard floated past afterwards and flashed a memory of Roman, his hair disheveled and his eyes half-closed. Right after that kiss in his apartment, when Virgil had stolen those documents…_

_He grimaced at the image, finally turning to face Other Virgil._

_“So what do I do?”_

_Other Virgil furrowed his brows, considering. “_ **_We do what you always do. Just breathe. In for four…_ ** _”_

_Virgil blinked, and the shards began to fade into the grey expanse._

_“_ **_Hold for seven…_ ** _”_

_He began to feel the smooth leather cushion underneath him, and the outlines of car seats in front of him started to form._

_“_ **_Out for eight. Good. Keep going._** _”_

“…and honestly, the recruiter they sent was super thorough and nice, so I decided it would be worth it,” Patton said.

_Oh. They’re talking_. Virgil blinked the daze away, gradually tuning into the conversation in front of him.

“After my training, they didn’t put me on many, er, _mainstream_ missions because of my history. I mean—sorry that sounds really bad but it’s not—I was pretty much an average student at RIIS, but I was really friendly and all of my teachers found out that violence isn’t…my strong suit. But that didn’t bother me, ‘cuz I think I got the best deal out of it. I learned self-defense and the basics of fighting, and they _usually_ put me on missions that where I wouldn’t have to worry about the morality of killing people!”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Patton and Logan both noticed.

“Er, I mean, there were _times_ , obviously. Every agent has to…see things they’d rather not see—just take this job I’ve been working for the past three years! But it’s all stuff I’ve been trained to handle. Plus, I know this really excellent therapist, their name’s Emile—sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“It’s quite alright, Patton. I find your so-called rambling…comforting, actually,” Logan murmured, stealing a glance at his companion before he returned his eyes to the road.

“Aww, Logan, that’s so cute!” Patton clasped his hands together, and Virgil had to resist the urge to snort at the couple. “Say, how’d _you_ end up joining RIIS?”

“RIIS recruited me out of high school as well because of my experience with technology. I was originally going to be assigned to the IT division of the agency. But in the first year of basic training, my adviser suggested I become a field agent because she believed I could keep my emotions in check better than most agents. Hence, being trained as an interrogator and field agent. Besides…even though the idea of developing new technology is enticing, I couldn’t handle being indoors all day when I could be out there making a difference. I guess that’s our fatal flaw, isn’t it, Patton?”

“What do you mean?”

“We both want to make a difference. So much that we’re doing outlandish stuff like…this.”

Patton snorted. “C’mon, Lo, have some faith in us. We make a pretty good team. Besides, I like a little bit of…’outlandish’.”

Virgil could’ve sworn he saw Logan blush at Patton’s words, and he smirked. 

_That could be you and Roman._

The sudden dropping feeling in his stomach that came with that thought made him frown. It wasn’t loneliness, necessarily…no, he knew what loneliness felt like. This was deeper—like a cavity in his chest where his heart should be.

The strangely foreboding feeling that he _would be_ lonely. That he would never feel these moments.

That it was over before it had begun.

He reached a hand up and clutched his chest, trying to shake the aching feeling that had suddenly overpowered him.

“Virgil? You okay there, kiddo?” Patton asked. Virgil glanced up from the back of the seat, where he had apparently been staring off. He realized the conversation between Logan and Patton had ceased long ago, and now Patton was staring at him in concern.

“I’m fine. Sorry.”

A pause. “We’ll get him back, Virge.”

Virgil gulped. “I know. I just—I don’t want to lose him again,” he whispered. Patton nodded, giving him a sympathetic smile. After a moment an idea seemed to pop into his head.

“Hey, Virge, how did you go to join COTECH? I never actually heard about it, y’know.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Virgil swallowed, a pang of guilt surging through his chest. He’d left his friend behind back in high school—he realized just how lucky he was that Patton was as impossibly compassionate and welcoming as he was. “RIIS—or, COTECH, I guess, uh, took my family away and blamed it on RIIS so that I would be convinced to join them?”

Patton blinked. “Oh.” That certainly wasn’t the response he’d been expecting.

_All those years he left were…how did I never realize…?_

Patton furrowed his brows, trying to remember that moment when Virgil broke the news to him—had his parents already been taken by then? Just how alone had his friend been?

The two of them had been sitting on the floor that afternoon at the end of their junior year of high school, leaning against the frame of Patton’s bed. Patton had spread out a ton of pamphlets, business cards, and leaflets from the college fair, and they had been rummaging through them for over an hour, their studying interspersed with giggles and the occasional sarcastic jab or reenactment of a particular segment.

_“Ohh, look at this one!” Patton attempted to deepen his voice as he read off the pamphlet title. “‘Rogers Institute for Intelligence and Security, or RIIS for short, is recruiting qualified and passionate personnel looking to advance the security of our nation and make a safer world to…’ Huh, this is actually kinda interesting. And not as cheesy as the other ones,” Patton giggled. He didn’t notice the way Virgil had suddenly gone quiet._

_“Hey, Pat, I, uh, I have some news.”_

_“What is it, kiddo?”_

_“Patton, we’re the same—nevermind,” Virgil waved his hand, as if brushing away the thought. “Well, I…got a new job.”_

_“That’s great news, Virgil!” Patton beamed. “I was so worried about you pulling all those crazy hours. Where are you working? What are your hours going to be?”_

_“Well, uh…there’s a lot of details I still have to sort out. But,” Virgil fiddled with his fingers for another moment before he continued. “Uh…how do I put this…I’m moving.” The black-clad man next to him gazed at Patton, searching his eyes for some sort of reaction._

_“Really? How far away?” Patton said, his voice light._

_Virgil bit his lip. “Far enough that I have to move schools.”_

_“Oh,” Patton swallowed, trying to down the lump that was forming in his throat._

_“My new job is paying for my tuition for this private school. It’s…a really good opportunity." He said it like an apology._

_“Well that’s…that’s really great, Virge,” Patton said. It only took a second before he leaned to the side, throwing his arms around his emo friend, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”_

_Virgil slowly wrapped his arms around Patton, trying to find a position where he wouldn’t get himself strangled by Patton’s suffocating grasp._

_“I’ll miss you too, Pat,” Virgil said, his voice stiff. Patton tightened his grip on him, as if that would somehow keep him from leaving. They stayed there for some minutes before Patton finally relinquished his grasp, sniffing as he wiped moisture out of the corner of his eye._

_“What about your family? Are they staying here, or…”_

_Patton barely caught the way Virgil’s eyes darted to the side as he spoke. “They’re moving with me. Found a nice apartment up near where the school is.”_

_“Ah. So no more…family bake-offs, then?” Patton joked, recalling the many Saturday afternoons they had spent in Virgil’s kitchen, baking or cooking or just throwing flour at each other until Virgil was finally wearing a color other than black._

_“No,” Virgil said. “But we should still call, right?”_

_“Of course,” Patton croaked. Virgil smiled wistfully, leaning back against the bed frame and stating off into space. Patton was about to ask what he was thinking about when he heard his friend whisper something else, so softly that he almost missed it._

_“I don’t want to go home, Pat.”_

_Patton frowned for a second, before turning to his friend. “You wanna have one last sleepover?” he offered. Virgil grinned._

_“Sure. One last sleepover.”_

“Pat? You good there? It’s really not that bad, I promise, it was a while ago. I’m okay,” Virgil said, snapping the man out of his daze.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out,” he rushed. Virgil glanced down at his feet.

Suddenly, he said, “Wouldn’t it have been fun if we both went to RIIS together, Pat?”

Patton grinned, somewhere between wistful and grateful. “Yeah. It would’ve been amazing.”

“And hey, maybe all four of us could’ve met at the academy, trained together.”

Logan snorted. “Oh, you would _not_ have liked Roman at the Academy.” Virgil raised a brow, waiting for Logan to add more. When he didn’t, Virgil prompted him, a smirk growing on his face.

“Please tell me everything about this. I need to get dirt on this man.”

The sound of laughter filled up the little car as they drove closer to the facility, and three agents felt a small weight lift off their chests as they approached.

Maybe it would be alright.

Maybe _they_ would be alright.

* * *

Morgan. Bailey. Nguyen. Hanson. It hadn’t been five minutes into the interrogation, and Janus had spotted each of those four agents squirm with discomfort, at least once. Maybe it was the knife he twirled in his hand, but he suspected the agents knew better than to be afraid of getting stabbed.

He knew interrogations weren’t for everyone. Hell, he wouldn’t peg himself as a master interrogator either. But he knew these agents had to be exposed to COTECH’s methods before he left.

He knew they had to be exposed to COTECH’s sins.

He had already asked two of the agents (Could he even call them that? They were so inexperienced—maybe students was a better term) to come forward and remove the restraints on Roman’s legs, reminding them that they’d be placed in similar situations on-mission.

_Seriously, how do they not know this already? Spy training’s really gone to shit._

A fascinating object to consider—those newer agents were trained for violence and espionage, yet lacking a rounded out education on the side of agent life that required caution and preparation for situational missions? Even Remus could boast more restraint than these agents had learned.

_Remus_. The face appeared in Janus’s mind against his will, completely derailing his thoughts and making him question the thoroughness of his own training. _Focus, Janus. This is for him._

Janus spun around to face his audience. The room had lapsed into a baited silence as the heels of Janus’s boots clicked against the tile floors. He used the echo to find the precise point he was looking for—just a couple steps behind Roman, underneath a circular fluorescent lamp embedded in the ceiling.

“Study our subject’s facial expressions as I speak,” Janus said, his voice suddenly bouncing off the walls at multiple points, “And tell me what interrogation technique I am currently implementing.”

If Janus had a camera trained on Roman, he would’ve seen what the students saw: Roman’s dark eyes darting back and fort, lingering on the peripherals. The way he straightened his back and turned his head ever-so-slightly was a clear indicator. He was alert—looking for something.

“He’s trying to find where you are. The technique is disorientation,” Nguyen piped up.

“Good. And finding a point of projection—especially behind the subject—dispels your voice and maximizes the subject’s confusion. They expend a lot of energy and focus into not revealing compromising information, but this is diverted when they become paranoid.” Janus forced the words through his teeth. “Who can name the other two techniques that COTECH believes are essential for a successful interrogation?”

A hand shot up—Agent Cohen. One of the two agents that had yet to show discomfort with the interrogation. One of two who voluntarily conscripted, Janus suspected.

“Their relationship to the target, and balancing pain with comfort,” She practically recited from the training manual. Janus pursed his lips in a controlled smile.

“Correct. COTECH asks that you keep your subjects guessing—too much comfort, and they won’t be intimidated. Too much pain…” he strode forward, stopping directly behind Roman and tracing the bruised half of his jaw with two fingers, “…and they become desensitized.”

He felt Roman tense under his fingertips as they traced down to rest on his shoulder, but the agent remained silent. He stilled completely when he began to feel a light tapping on the back of his neck. 

“Now who,” _Tap tap tap_ “would like to try,” _Tap hold_ “implementing the last technique?” _Tap tap hold tap. Tap._

Roman’s shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly as Janus studied his audience.

“No one? Interesting. Obviously you have not been paying attention—allow me to demonstrate.”

He leaned over Roman’s shoulder until he was mere centimeters from the RIIS agent’s ear. Unseen by the students, he slid the knife-wielding hand down Roman’s arm and to the binding on his hand, resting it solidly on the ropes.

“Isn’t it fantastic?” Janus whispered through his teeth. “You get to preview all the ways we’ll torture your lover before it even happens. Even better—you’ll get a front row seat to watch it!” He didn’t move as Roman struggled against his restraints, clearly trying to knock out Janus’s jaw with his shoulder.

Janus smirked. “So you do still have that little spark. Good.” His hands moved deftly along the restraints as he tipped his head up to watch the younger agents. “See? It’s very simple to find a RIIS agent’s weakness. It’s all too convenient, really.” He stilled his shoulders as the sharpened blade slit neatly down the rope. Roman’s hands were quick to catch the pieces of binding before they fell to the ground. “Who else would like to take a... _stab_?”

He glanced around the unassuming agents, humming in distaste. He silently placed the knife in Roman’s hand before stepping back away from the chair. “Come now, don’t let this training be for nothing. You’ll need it after all.” Janus nodded to one of the agents—one who had been staring him down since he started the review. “Try it out, Agent Parsons.”

The agent stared for just one moment more before they stepped forward, tying back their hair into a small ponytail on the back of their head.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Janus smiled. He stepped forward to stand next to Roman’s chair, his eyes traveling from the RIIS agent to the rest of his audience.

Six pairs of eyes stared back.

_Time to make a move_.

“Always remember to check the door security codes before you enter a sealed room.”

Roman launched forward from his chair, angling for the agent in front of him. Parsons fought back, slamming their fist into the side of Roman’s arm and breaking off a chunk of glass. The room seemed to swirl around them—two agents raced to the doors only to find them locked. Janus produced another knife and placed himself between Roman and the agents.

“What are you doing?” One of the agents shouted, watching with wide eyes as Roman finally got the upper hand on the younger agent, pinning Janus’s knife to their throat. Janus took another look at the surprised agents in front of him.

“Making a statement, I suppose,” Janus shrugged, his expression indifferent. “Consider for a moment: why did you all join COTECH? Was it because of your skills and the experiences they offered you? You wanted to be a _spy_?” He asked with a taunting venom. “Or did you join because RIIS took something from you—your families, perhaps—and you wanted to get them back? How many of you joined for the latter?”

Silence. A couple of confused stares.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Agent Bailey spoke up.

“You think it’s a coincidence that almost half of the inductees into your class had their families taken away? Your loyalty to COTECH is under false pretenses. RIIS did not take your families—COTECH did. And they’ve been hiding it from us,” he said, pulling several folded sheets of paper from his jacket pocket and opening them. “I have official documentation from COTECH on all of your families. What they did to them, where they kept them.”

He spread out the files, handing them to the startled agents. As they flipped through their respective files, Janus risked a glance at Roman. His normally pristine hair was mussed out of place from the fight, and his chest rose and fell in a way that betrayed his fatigue.

_Guess who’s to blame for that._

Suddenly it hit him that the RIIS agent was barely standing: most of his weight was balanced on Agent Parsons. When Roman met Janus’s eyes in a brief moment of agreement, he released Parsons to join the rest of the agents, swaying a little on his heels as he did so.

_We need to speed this up._

“So, you have a choice. Continue working for an agency that blackmailed you into working for them, or join me. Take down this festering hole of an agency and expose its crimes, once and for all.”

“I thought…” Agent Morgan stuttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the paper. “I thought you were with them.”

“That was our first mistake,” Janus responded. “Are you with me or not?”

Hesitation. Nguyen folded her file, stuffing it into the back pocket of her jeans. She looked up, her stare even as she met Janus’s eyes.

“I’m with you.”

One after another, he saw the rest of the young agents join her. Only Parsons and Cohen held back—as expected.

The agents on both sides of the room stared at each other, at an apparent standstill. Roman wavered on his feet, but the younger agents were too distracted by the rising tension in the room to notice. After a brief lapse into silence, Janus decided to step it up.

“Parsons. Cohen. This is your last chance to join us,” he said shortly. Parsons shot a glare his way and held their ground, but Cohen wavered. Hesitantly, she stepped forward and turned on her heel, facing back at Parsons.

“Not you too,” Parsons hissed, letting out an agitated sigh. “This is ridiculous. You realize it’s all RIIS propaganda, right?”

“C’mon, mate, you have to admit that it lowkey sucks here. I mean, all things considered, they’re barely compensating us for the shit we have to do,” Cohen responded, folding her arms.

“If this were RIIS propaganda, agent Parsons…” Janus stepped forward. “Then you would've fallen for it. Just like you've fallen for every word of COTECH's propaganda so far.”

With another step, Janus was practically toe to toe with the younger agent. It only took him a second to knock the wind out of their chest, and a couple more to have them doubling over, unconscious as they hit the floor. Janus straightened his shirtsleeves, stepping deftly over agent Parsons as he turned to face his recruits.

“I need you to provide a cover for the RIIS agent and me. All you will have to do is go to Remus’s scheduled guest lecture as normal. Keep him distracted for the next hour of the lecture. Then, I have scheduled you—with the Director’s consent, though he is in the dark on our true motive—to meet me just outside the facility. From there, I will ensure you make a safe escape. Is that clear?” One by one, they nodded back to him. Janus gave a thin smile, turning back on his heel and making his way to the door. He tried not to think about the implications—and the potential punishments—for what they were doing as he typed the code into the keypad.

....-..-..

Roman perked up at the familiar code—the same one that had been tapped into his shoulder.

_Safe._

And he was, now. At least he hoped so.

Whether Janus could be trusted was yet to be determined—but he had the faintest glimmer of hope.

Despite having battled the agent many, _many_ times, and having seen Janus’s deception in action…he had the feeling that the COTECH agent was being sincere, for once.

Or maybe he was just delirious. Who’s to say?

He crossed through the door of the interrogation room, the last agent out (besides Parsons, who was sleeping quite uncomfortably on the interrogation room floor). The rest of the agents filed out as normal and walked straight to the lecture hall where Remus was undoubtedly waiting for them, but Roman lingered.

Janus shut the door behind them with a _click_ , cooling any sign of agitation or nervousness before he turned around to face Roman. He inspected the obvious signs of exhaustion and the thin streaks of blood tricking down his arm for a moment. With a shake of his head, he took off his coat and held it out in front of him.

“Take this. You need to cover your arms or you’ll look suspicious. I’m taking you back to the barracks. We need to get the glass out and wrap your arms, then I am getting you out here.”

Roman eyed Janus warily for a moment before taking the coat. He draped it over his shoulders, giving Janus a nod to confirm that he was ready to go. 

No more words were exchanged until the door to Janus’s barrack shut with a click behind Roman. Janus crossed over into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit, leaving Roman to examine the room in front of him: meticulous, tidy, and altogether _way_ too clean for his taste. _How the hell can he stand all this grey?_

“Sit here,” Janus said when he came back out, gesturing to the small, angular table and chairs in the corner of the room. He placed himself in the chair opposite Roman and set the open kit on the small bedside table. He produced a bowl in his other hand and thrust it towards Roman. “Glass shards go in here.”

“Why are you doing this?” Roman said, his voice crackling. He stared down the bowl Janus was holding until the latter finally set it down with an impatient click.

“Because I need your help,” he said after a moment. “You saw them take Remus. He isn’t the same anymore. They…planted memories in his head.”

Roman furrowed his brows. “They can do that?”

Janus nodded, standing up from the table. He strode towards the small cot in the corner of the room, pulling it back and peeling up the wallpaper from a nearly invisible point. He dug out the folded paper files from the small hole in his wall, placing them in front of Roman.

“Before Remus and I interrogated you, we found these. I didn’t get the chance to read through them until after I…left.”

“…Right.” Roman reached forward and opened the file, his eyes darting left and right as he scanned through the information. It took only a minute or so for him to find the details Janus knew he would be looking for. “Virgil is the only survivor?”

“The only one to survive three trials. That’s why COTECH deems him so valuable. And why we need to get you out of here. If you just take these files and—”

“‘We?’” Roman echoed. “Janus—there is no _we_. Let me make something clear. Just because you rescued me does not make us _partners._ " Roman inhaled, studying the change in Janus's expression. "I’m not here to be your replacement Remus, or to convince Virgil that he should forgive you for the horrible things you did. You lost him—both of them—because you were too ignorant to see the clearest warning signs. Denial got you nowhere, and it won’t get us out of this hellhole.”

Janus reeled back. He clutched his fists defensively, preparing to lash out, but he faltered.

The anger didn’t fill the pit that was opening up in his chest. And he already knew that attacking Roman did nothing to help him either.

No—what filled his chest instead was overwhelming remorse. It was an aching he realized had been there all along. Since the first memory trial he had taken part in.

Every time he asked Virgil if he was taking his anxiety medication so he could gage if he was ready for a trial.

Every glance he shared with Remus as they pulled their friend down to the laboratory.

Every time he pretended not to see the way Remus was looking at him.

Every time he didn’t.

_God, I’m messed up…_

He sighed, relaxing his hands. “You’re right.”

Roman blinked as Janus tore off his hat, running a hand through his hair. If he saw a tear drip onto the cold bedside table, he kept it to himself. Instead, he moved to finish bandaging his arms (it was the most privacy that he could give, all things considered).

He made quick work of finishing the bandages, even grabbing a cold compress for the bruise on his jaw before he finally checked back with Janus. The COTECH agent was staring off at some invisible point in space and Roman could see a defined tear streak down one side of his face.

"Janus—"

"No—you're right. I can't begin to ask for forgiveness through this," he whispered. "I _am_ ignorant, Roman, I have been."

Roman leaned back in his chair—as casually as he could, given the fact that the chair was probably _designed_ to be uncomfortable—and sighed. "You're learning." His eyes flicked down to the stack of files in front of him. "We all are."

Janus closed his eyes, exhaling. 

"Truce, then?" Roman held out a bandaged hand, cradling the cold compress on his cheek with the other. 

The corner of Janus's lip twitched upward. "Truce," He said, his grasp light as he shook Roman's hand. 

Ten minutes later, Roman’s bruises had been inspected, iced, and covered in just the slightest bit of makeup (it was Janus’s way of apologizing for last night’s…breakdown…even if he knew he’d have to make it up in more ways than just that to truly be forgiven).

(Maybe getting Roman out would be enough. He could only hope.)

By that time Roman had consumed a spare granola bar, downed a glass of water, and had iced even the dark circles under his eyes (“The cold helps to reduce puffiness, and a spy has _got_ to slay!”).

Janus had no idea what that last comment meant, but he decided it would be safer for him to just roll with it.

"Right. Our next step, then, is getting you out of here. Take these files and hide them somewhere on your person. As soon as you get out, you need to send them to RIIS, okay? The press, too. COTECH needs to be exposed for what they did."  
  


Just then, the shrill sound of sirens rang out through the facility, putting agents on high alert. Janus's head snapped up to the red light blinking from his ceiling.

"I think that's our cue."

* * *

Despite the lengthy conversations and planning, it seemed like mere minutes had passed before Logan, Patton, and Virgil reached the facility. Or, rather, the back alley a block away where they could park the car and look inconspicuous. Virgil noticed Logan had a knack for parallel parking, and he huffed in amusement. _Of course he does._

Logan pulled out a small burner phone, flipping it open to access the keypad. He typed a hasty message and hesitated before pressing “send.”

“I’m about to tell them that we are ten minutes out,” He said, biting his lip. “There’s no going back after this. Are you ready?”

Virgil felt the now-familiar twist of anxiety solidify in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed.

_We’re about to go back to COTECH. I’m about to return to one of the most dangerous places on Earth._

_They could take me and experiment on me before we get to Roman._

_They could kill one of us. Or all of us._

_We’re going to be outnumbered 100 to 1._

_Yeah,_ he thought sarcastically. _No big deal._

“No time like the present,” He quipped, pushing the car door open and stepping out. He made his way around to the trunk as Logan sent the message. He and Patton got out at almost the same time and met Virgil at the back. Logan opened the trunk and pulled out the equipment.

It took them only five minutes to get completely suited up, with hidden gear and devices strewn at various points of their bodies in case of emergencies. They first set up a comms system, each agent getting a tiny flesh-adapting earpiece that wouldn’t be spotted by an initial inspection. Patton had an extra handgun stored in a concealed shoulder holster for Roman, and Logan carried some extra tech with him as well. Their last act was to bind Virgil’s hands together—for effect, of course. The ropes they used were tied loosely and Virgil would be able to wriggle free within seconds if the occasion called for it.

“Remember, you can’t act like you came willingly,” Logan said as he finished the binding. “You should attempt to struggle and break free of our hold. We’ll act along.”

“Got it,” Virgil said, feeling uncharacteristically nauseous.

The feeling only worsened as they approached the facility, and before he knew it, Virgil’s hands were starting to tremble under the restraints.

He knew he was safe. He knew he had two agents protecting him…but he suddenly wasn’t sure if he would be able to defend himself. He hadn’t fought with an actual hostile agent since before he escaped COTECH—only a little over a month ago. Was he actually ready to do it again? He wasn’t sure, though he knew he had never felt this level of fear before a mission. Then again, taking him directly into the heart of a place where he had been tortured and manipulated might not have been the best idea for getting back into the espionage business.

Patton seemed to notice his shaking hands, having an arm braced against the shorter one’s shoulder, and he gave him a reassuring squeeze. “You okay, kiddo?”

“Not sure,” he replied honestly. “COTECH doesn’t exactly elicit great memories any more.”

Logan stopped in his tracks, and Patton was quick to follow suit. They were just about to round the corner to COTECH’s building (although it was not public knowledge that the building belonged to them), and Virgil looked at him quizzically.

“Can you do this, Virgil? I’m asking sincerely,” Logan said, his voice softer and more… _parental_ than Virgil had imagined it could get.

Virgil paused, having been unprepared for the question. “It’s fine.”

“Obviously not. You are a victim of trauma and you are far from recovered, Virgil,” Logan pointed out. “I should have realized sooner that this mission would be a burden on you. Patton, we should go. I can contact them and say he esc—”

“No!” Virgil hissed, digging his heels into the ground. “We can’t stop now. Roman needs us. I can do this.”

Logan and Patton shared another look—one that was starting to get on Virgil’s nerves—before Patton responded. “Virgil, we know Roman needs us, but…he wouldn’t want you hurting yourself on his behalf.”

“I can do this,” Virgil repeated. “Please. He’s in danger every second he’s in there.”

The trio was silent until, finally, Logan sighed, pushing up his glasses. “As much as I hate to say it, he’s right, Patton.” Patton swallowed, casting one last worried glance at his friend.

“Please promise me you’ll be careful, Virgil.”

Virgil nodded, taking another deep breath to try and shove down the churning sensation in his stomach. “Let’s go.”

They rounded the corner, Logan and Patton bracing Virgil with a hand on each shoulder and one hooked around each of his arms. The street was oddly clear of passersby, and especially quiet. More quiet than even the alleyway had felt.

Like the calm before a storm.

Virgil became very aware of the way his heart was hammering agains his chest.

The glass doors of the COTECH headquarters opened ominously before them, and after a moment of hesitation, the three of them stepped through. Virgil cringed at the familiar, muted scent of the facility that blew over him. Behind them, the automatic doors closed again, and Virgil lowered his head to feign a look of defeat, staring at the familiar old carpeting of the main lobby. His toe hit the metal band beneath them as they passed though the second set of doors, and Virgil counted down under his breath, only loud enough for Logan and Patton to hear.

“3…2…1.” Virgil jostled his shoulder, and Patton’s loose grip allowed him to break free, stumbling forward into the reception hall. He thought he might be overdoing the “volatile asset” act when he jostled into someone in his way, but the three of them had agreed it needed to look real—like their goal _wasn’t_ to break in and rescue a high-profile asset. He just wondered why Patton and Logan had made it so easy for him to escape their grasp.

_Were they even_ trying _to fighting back? C’mon, guys, get with the progr_ —

Virgil’s eyes finally flicked up to the person he had bumped into, and his forced scowl fell instantly.

So did Roman’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave a kudos and/or a comment! :)
> 
> Also, my friend peer pressured me into getting a tumblr, so you can now follow me @cryptic-stories ! 
> 
> One more thing: If you have time to read this, I strongly believe you should set aside some time to read literature in support of the BLM movement and what you can do to help. Here's a link to a couple of articles that I found helpful/informative: https://www.vanityfair.com/london/2020/06/black-lives-matter-helpful-reading-resources 
> 
> Please stay safe, drink water, and wash your hands!! <3


End file.
